


For Your Viewing Pleasure

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Never Met, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Derek's Past, Dildos, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sheriff Stilinski, From Sex to Love, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Past Violence, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn Star Derek Hale, Porn Star Isaac Lahey, Porn Star Stiles Stilinski, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Sex Toys, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Smut, Stilinski Family Feels, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Unrequited Lust, Work In Progress, Worship, vibes, voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As his computer starts up, Stiles eagerly awaits the latest video update. Single, lonely and not as attractive as the rest of the guys in Beacon Hills, Stiles thinks he has resigned to the fact that the only way he can find pleasure it to give it to himself. Luckily, Alpha’s videos never make that hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I wrote this, and even less of an idea why I'm posting it.  
> Just, please, don't shame me, because I'm already feeling it.
> 
> Just so it doesn't get confusing: Derek's screen name is Alpha and Isaac's is Lupin.

Stiles dragged his feet upstairs, nudging his bedroom door shut behind him. He stripped off his hoodie and dropped it to the floor, somewhere in the same vicinity as his bag. He slumped down in his desk chair and buried his face in his hands. He let out an exhausted groan, dragging his slender fingers down his face as he contemplated, for the umpteenth time, dropping out of school.

He knew he’d never do it, but the thought was still somewhat pleasing: no stress, no social interaction, and no ridiculous expectations to be in a relationship.

It really didn’t help that there were barely any single people left in Beacon Hills, and no-one would look at the flailing mess that was Stiles Stilinski and think ‘yes, I want him’. And so it came to pass that Stiles had admitted defeat, resorting to self-pleasure for stimulation and relief.

And that used to be hard, because after a while all porn became the same: boring, cliché and nothing more than screaming and grunting. That was until Stiles found the Alpha.

He had been scrolling through ‘elite’ and ‘exclusive’ porn sites simply because he had nothing better to do when he found the first video: an experience he’d never forget.

Stiles didn’t know the man’s real name, but damn he was gorgeous. He had short cropped black hair, the shadowy scruff of a beard and plump pink lips that Stiles could only ever dream of kissing. He had a body of rippling, toned muscles, abs that you could bounce a coin off of and an ass that would put Nicki Minaj to shame. His skin was golden, glistening with gathering beads of sweat or come that streamed through the seams of his muscles. His broad shoulders would rise and fall with rugged breaths and the sound of his husky voice drawn out into savage cries was enough to make Stiles come untouched on more than one occasion. His most prominent feature – aside from his bulging biceps, thick thighs, perfect ass, glistening abs and thick cock – was the thick black swirls that sat between his shoulder blades: a triskelion tattoo.

The one thing Stiles wanted to see the most was what the man kept covered. He had never seen Alpha’s eyes; he always wore a black cotton blindfold that left Stiles wanting more. He wanted to see what he looked like when his face wasn’t covered. He wanted to see how his face was sculpted from his sharp cheekbones and what lose himself in the glittering depths of his eyes. He wanted to know so badly what colour they were. Not that it mattered much, because everything about the man drove Stiles mad, but Stiles still wanted to know.

He was a dominant man but he could take a pounding too. Stiles was still buzzing on the video he had posted last week: the images of Alpha on his hands and knees, back arching as he made an animalistic sound, pushing his hips back over the fingers that were buried deep in his ass, fucking himself open on them. He would never forget the sight of Alpha riding his co-star, legs trembling as he let out broken gasps and grunts. He weakened, letting the man who topped him grab his hips and pull him down over his rigid length while thrusting up into him, savagely burying himself as deep as possible until Alpha came untouched, and Stiles couldn’t stop touching himself.

Stiles shook his head, stirring himself from his derailed train of thought. His crotch throbbed at the thought of the man. His cock was growing harder and harder by the second, too excited to calm down.

The screen of Stiles’ phone flashed with a new notification.

Stiles sat back in his seat and picked it up off of the desk.

 

Ω OMEGA:

(1) New Video: Alpha…

 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Stiles gasped. His hands knocked things about on his desk as he quickly opened his laptop and started it up. He stripped off his tight jeans, sighing with relief as his pulsing erection was freed of the constricting denim. He pushed his boxers down to his ankles before sitting back down on his chair.

A though occurred to him.

He quickly glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock that sat above his bed. The bright red numbers blinked at him.

He sighed with relief, his dad would be at work for another few hours, which meant he had all the time he needed.

The laptop screen lit up. He unlocked his account and opened the internet, signing into the ‘elite’ website. The new video sat on his dashboard, waiting eagerly for him.

He didn’t even read the title, just clicked on the play button and blew up the video to fit the screen.

The loading wheel spun in an endless cycle. Stiles let out a disappointed groan. He didn’t want to wait; he wanted to jerk himself off now.

Finally the screen lit up with the video and Stiles was met with the glorious sight of the man named Alpha. He was blindfolded as usual, but his face was twisted into a scowl. He was shirtless, wearing nothing more than a pair of tight black jeans and a leather jacket.

But he wasn’t wearing them for long as a younger man with curly sand-brown hair stepped into focus. He wore a golden bandana to cover most of his face, leaving only his bright blue eyes in sight. His nimble fingers made quick work of Alpha’s pants and jacket, stripping the man as bare as he was.

The younger man, whose stage name was Lupin, took the man’s half-hard cock in his hand, gently stroking the shaft as he looked up at Alpha pleadingly.

Alpha seemed to know his companion was looking up at him.

“What are you going to do?” Alpha asked

“I’m going to make my alpha come,” the teenager whimpered.

“And how are you going to do that?”

Lupin gently urged Alpha back against the bed. He climbed atop of the man, Alpha’s broad hands instinctively settling atop the boy’s hips. Lupin picked up a toy and ran it across Alpha’s lips.

“I’m going to use this for a start.”

Stiles heard the quiet buzz of vibrator and Alpha’s gasps as Lupin brought it to man’s bare nipple. He rolled it around the hard nipple, bringing his hand to the other – twisting and tugging at it as he began to elicit noises from the man, delighted moans and rugged cries.

Alpha’s hips jerked up, his back arching to the touch as he ached for more stimulation.

Stiles let out an involuntary noise. He loved those noises the man made and the gyrating movements of his sculpted pelvis that proved just how much he was indulging in his carnal instincts and enjoying being toyed with.

The boy bit into his lip and lowered his hand to his cock, gasping at his own touch. He was already sensitive and over stimulated, just from watching the man. He bucked into his hand, gripping tight at the base as he worked his hand up and down the shaft.

Lupin brought this mouth to the man’s other nipple, tugging at it with his teeth and tearing a moan from the man in response. He let go and sucked at the nipple, moving the vibrator away from Alpha’s nipple and running it down through the seams of the man’s taut muscles.

Lupin purred, chuckling as the man strained and arched towards the sensation.

And then it was gone.

Lupin shut off the vibe and set it aside.

Stiles licked his lips ravenously as Lupin slid down towards the end of the bed and picked up a dildo.

Alpha had been prepared earlier, evident by his eager lube-slick asshole. But even so, Lupin lathered his fingers in lube and pressed them against Alpha’s entrance.

He pressed the head of the dildo against Alpha’s asshole, teasing him but not giving him any pleasure or friction.

“Push back and sink down onto it,” Lupin instructed.

Stiles let out an involuntary moan, his hand grasping and pumping his shaft as Alpha held his breath. The boy watched as the man lowered himself over the toy, his ass consuming the thick dildo that Lupin held in position.

Alpha let out a savage moan, his lips trembled as he cried out and threw his head back against the crisp white sheets.

“Do you like your new toy?” Lupin teased, sliding the ridged dildo in and out of Alpha’s tight ass.

The man whimpered, the sound rolling right through Stiles.

Stiles stroked his shaft faster and faster. He watched Alpha roll his hips, desperate for more friction against his prostate.

Lupin continued to tease the man, pulling the dildo out until only the tip was inside of his ass – leaving him breathless and whimpering needily for more – and then he shoved it back in until the hilt his the man’s entrance, making the man cry out and thrash about. Then he began to twist it, earning yelps, groans and whimpers from the man as his feet peddled uselessly against the sheets.

Lupin grabbed the vibrator again and pressed it to the tip of Alpha’s cock, chuckling breathlessly as the man bucked to the sensation, whimpering as he shifted his ass around the dildo.

Stiles felt his stomach grow tense as an orgasm brewed.

Lupin reached down and turned on the dildo.

The man let out a broken whine as the vibrating tip shifted about and buzzed inside of him.

Lupin purred, stroking his own pulsing hard cock as he drank in the sight of the man completely at his mercy.

It took a moment before Alpha regained his senses.

“Feed me your cock,” the man growled. His limbs trembled as he sat up and perching himself on his hands and knees.

Lupin shuffled closer, bringing his cock to the man’s gaping mouth. He ran his slender fingers through the man’s ruffled black hair. He gently tugged at it, listening to the man gasp and moan. The teen bucked his hips forward and slid his cock into the man’s mouth.

Alpha chocked on it for a second, but quickly adjusted, sinking down over the teen’s rigid length.

“Oh God, yes,” Lupin gasped. “You really are hungry, aren’t you? Or are you just a slut for cock?”

Alpha growled, the deep rumbling sound erupting from his chest. He bared his teeth and dragged them down the length of boy’s cock, applying pressure and making the teen cry out.

“Respect your alpha,” the man growled.

The teen whimpered, submitting to the man.

Alpha took Lupin’s cock back in his mouth and sank down over it, moving his head back and forth as he teased eager whimpers from the boy’s lips.

Stiles tightened his grip on his own dick, imagining what it’d be like to have those lips coiled around his thick shaft, how it’d feel when his dick hit the warmth of the man’s throat, how it’d feel to have Alpha purr against his length as he devoured the boy, or how it’d feel for the man’s whiskers to brush against his skin ever so lightly – just enough to leave him begging for more friction, more warmth, more touching, more everything.

Stiles’ cock twitched at the thought, his stomach tensing as he grew closer to an orgasm.

Alpha rolled his hips, grinding against the buzzing dildo. The man’s golden flesh rolled over his body, glistening with beads of primitive sweat that were so defined that Stiles could smell them. The man sighed as he moved his head over Lupin’s cock. The teen threw he head back, he was gasping and sputtering as Alpha drew back. He came with the head of his cock on Alpha’ parted lips, spurts of come spilling into the man’s mouth.

Stiles fought back his wave for pleasure.

He wasn’t going to come until Alpha did.

Alpha swallowed hard and wrapped his mouth around the boy’s cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Lupin collapsed to his knees and crawled off-screen.

Alpha sat back on his ankles, exposing himself to the camera completely. His muscles twitched and his breath was short as the dildo pressed against his prostate. Just perfect.

He bit into his lip, his chest rumbled with a deep growl and a broken moan.

The man’s noises made Stiles’ toes curl and his stomach knot longingly.

Stiles lifted his hand to his mouth and bit into the pale flesh of the back of his hand, leaving angry red teeth indents. He moved his hand faster and faster, spurred on by the man’s whimpers.

Stiles huffed rugged breaths, feeling his stomach tense as he drew closer to his climax.

He pushed his heel into the carpet, trying his best to ground himself.

Then it happened, Alpha threw his head back and cried out, exposing himself entirely to the camera as his cock twitched and he reached his climax, coming untouched.

It pushed Stiles over the edge. His hips bucked into his grasp as warm come spilt over his hand. His legs trembled as he collapsed back the chair. He struggled to hold himself up as his muscles throbbed and buzzed and his head span in circles. It took all his effort to keep his head upright, watching as Alpha touched himself, running his hand up and down his shaft as he emptied his load across the sheets.

The man lifted his other hand to his face, tucking his thumb under the thick black blindfold and lifting it up. The video ended, but, luckily, not quickly enough. Stiles caught a glance of the man’s eyes. Not enough to see properly, but just enough to catch a glimpse of that magnificent colour: shimmering green pools of aventurine, blown black with desire and lust, and shifting between shades of hazel and sky blue as the light shifted.

Better than Stiles could have ever imagined.

This man, his Alpha, was too damn perfect.

Stiles dragged the curser back, just far enough that the man’s face was in shot, a clear image of the man’s portrait: the man’s sweat-glistening shoulders, his taut muscles, his golden skin, his strong jaw that was shaded with the scruff of a beard and emphasized his sharp cheek bones, his plum pink lips parted for breath, and the black blindfold pulled up just high enough to reveal half of his eye almost teasingly.

Stiles saved the image and printed it out, staring at it for longer than he should have.

The sound of a rumbling engine pulled into the driveway.

“Shit,” Stiles hissed.

He shoved the photo beneath a bunch of papers on his desk, shuffling about the papers to obscure it. He fumbled with a box of tissues and quickly cleaned up the mess as his father’s car quietened and the doors slammed shut. He shut the video and wrestled his boxers and pants back on, panicked as he heard his father’s keys rattle in the front door. He quickly zipped up his jeans and checked that everything was how it should be. He straightened his ruffled hair as best he could and tried to calm himself as his father opened the front door and called for his son.

Stiles scrambled out of his room.

“Hi, dad,” he called from the top of the staircase, slightly out of breath.

“Hey,” the man replied, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” the boy answered. “I’m fine. You’re home early.”

Sheriff Stilinski looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the hallway. “No, I’m not. I’m home at the usual time.”

“Oh.” Stiles looked over his shoulder towards his room. “I must have lost track of time. You know… homework… study… work… working… enriching my brain with knowledge.”

Stiles took a deep breath, steadying himself as he pushed the image of the man out of his mind. At least, as much as he could.

Sheriff Stilinski nodded slowly, not completely content with the answer but well aware that he wasn’t going to get another one.

“I’ve got takeout for dinner,” the man announced, making his way through to the dining room and setting the plastic bag of food down on the table.

“Okay, but you’re not allowed any curly fries.”

“Stiles, I and the Sheriff of the Beacon Hills County, I carry a licenced weapon that I am certified and cleared to fire, I will have as many goddamn curly fries as I want.”

Stiles chuckled and made his way downstairs. He paused at the foot of the stairs, glancing back at his bedroom one last time.

He couldn’t set aside the image of the man in all his glory and beauty: soaked in glistening sweat and trails of fresh come, panting of breath as he broad shoulders rose and fell.

But now it was something else, something more.

Stiles wasn’t sure what it was exactly.

It wasn’t as if he had met the man and there were thousands of others who watched Alpha’s videos.

But something had changed.

He knew he’d never forget...

He would never forget those eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for it, so here it is.  
> This is only a short chapter and there's more to come when I get a chance to write it, but for now, enjoy. :)

Stiles dragged his feet into his room, the soles of his shoes dragging at the carpet as his muscles burnt with the strain of effort. He dropped everything by the door, stumbled across his bedroom, and collapsed on his bed. He buried his face in his pillow and screamed, his cries muffled by the cotton.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t make any effort to retrieve it; he knew who it was and what it said. It was yet another text from Scott asking if he has had any college offers yet, and the answer was the same as the seventy other times he had asked: none. Well, one – but it was from his last resort and one he _really_ did not want to go to.

Stiles rolled out of bed and dragged himself over to his desk. He started up his computer and stared at the brightly coloured strings connected the scribbled notes that covered his wall: reminders to complete his term papers, research terms, compile study notes, and similar reminders of his suffering.

He thumped his head against the desk, groaning, “Two more months.”

He continued to hit his head against the table until the strange numbness satisfied his sadist need for the day. He sighed and tuned his attention to his laptop, deciding that he might as well make some sort of effort to clear away the red strings and get started on his assignments.

He opened Microsoft Word and stared at the blank pages and the blinking black line of his curser, for a few minutes before opening the internet and searching his favourite site – literally anything that he could think of that would distract him. And of course one of them was Omega Exclusive.

He scrolled past the videos and looked at the profiles of the actors. He was so completely entranced by boredom that he didn’t realise he was looking at the website until his eyes fell upon the perfectly sculpted body of Alpha. But what really caught his attention was a small notice at the bottom of the page.

It was a small notice, but the words stood out as clear as day: a hiring notice.

Before Stiles thought it through, he clicked on the link and opened a new page, a submission form, a really simple one. Stiles started filling out the details, just for the hell of it.

He reached the final detail: a request to attach photos.

Stiles rose form his chair and grabbed his phone, he ignored the text from Scott that lit up the screen of his phone and opened the camera. He spent the next few minutes taking a few photos of himself. He tried to look cute with puppy eyes and a pout, or bit his finger the way Lydia did on Instagram, or a shy smile. But none of them turned out good enough.

He glanced in the mirror and sighed.

“What the hell am I doing?” He sighed and slumped down on the edge of the bed.

He was never going to meet the level of godly beauty that Lupin or Alpha had, so why should he try?

He looked in the mirror again, staring at his dishevelled appearance.

 _Maybe I could pull off some sort of cute, innocent look?_ he thought. _Or a sexy rugged mess?_

He stripped off his jacket and various layers of shirts until he was dressed only in his tight jeans.

Stiles did have some muscle mass, firm abs and strong biceps, he was not as sculpted or defined as Alpha – but that man was a God to whom none could compare. He tried a few poses, taking a few more photos with deductive expressions – biting his lip and making bedroom eyes – as well as a few with serious looks or deadpan expressions. He took a couple of selfies looking down at himself, showing off his flat chest and firm abs, before setting the camera on the floor and trying a few other poses. He spread his legs so that his junk pressed against the tight denim and he showed off his defined thighs and abdomen. He ran his hand through his unkempt hair and showed off as much skin as sexily as he could.

He smirked at the mirror and slid his hand under the waistband. He wasn't keeping track of how many pictures he'd taken by this point; he'd sort through them all later for the best ones. He undid the top button, and started to peel the garment open. Caught his lower lip between his teeth and gazed promiscuously at the camera.

He lost himself in the strange comfort of the trance.

It easier and easier; the butterflies in his stomach were gone, the heavy weight of regret and shame had lifted and he felt a new sense of pride in himself. He felt seductive, he felt free, and most importantly – for the first time in his life – he felt powerful.

He looked back through the photos, applying filters to some of them to make them look a little more professional and deleting others, before emailing a selected few to himself. He bounced back into his chair, downloading the pictures from the email and attaching them to the submission form.

Before he had a chance to second guess himself, he clicked ‘send’.

He sat back in his chair.

It only took a second before his smile dropped and fear set in. His stomach twisted and bile rose into his throat. The world spun about in circles, his vision blurred and his stomach churned.

He toppled off the side of his chair and curled up on the ground.

He swallowed gulps of air, fighting off the panic attack as a sense of guilt, shame and regret sent icy chills through his body and an endless swarm of thoughts left a mess in his head.

He sat still on the ground, breathing deeply in an attempt to steady himself.

“What have I done?” he muttered. “Why did I even bother? It’s not like I stand a chance.”

He glanced over at the mirror, looking at his dishevelled reflection and remembering just how good it felt.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed with a notification.

He reached up onto the desk above his head, shoving aside papers and clutter until he found the buzzing device.

He unlocked the screen and opened the email. He read through it, shocked.

His phone buzzed again, Scott’s name lighting up the screen.

Stiles swiped across and answered the call.

“Hey,” Scott said, as perky as ever.

“Hi,” Stiles replied, a little distracted.

“What’s up?” Scott asked, his soft voice full of concern. “You sound… weird.”

Stiles returned to reality, running his hand down his face and through his hair as he woke from his trance. “I, um… I got a job interview.”


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles pulled his Jeep up to the side of the road and parked. He took a moment to gather himself. His breathing was shallow and his heart was thumping against his ribs. He clenched his fists to stop them from shaking but it didn’t help. He shut off the Jeep’s engine and glanced over at the building.

It was a huge, intimidating industrial building, It was built up ten storeys high and looked over the entirety of Beacon Hills. The neighbouring buildings were run down, some in ruins and others just abandoned and tagged. But this building stood tall among the rest, old but not the least bit damaged.

Stiles sighed and stepped out of his Jeep. The door shut with a heavy thunk behind him as he checked himself over and made his way across the road.

He stepped up to the large door and pressed the small buzzer by the door.

“Yes?” a voice called through the speaker.

Stiles pushed the button of the intercom. “Hi, I’m Stiles, here for my interview.”

“Ah, yes. Come on in. We’re on the second floor, just follow the noise.”

“Thank you,” Stiles farewelled before pushing open the front door and making his way inside.

The building was in a better condition than the outside made it look. The inside had been painted and the concrete polished. It was furnished in a minimalistic style, making the large industrial building hold a strange sense of comfort. The large windows were clouded and filtered the light into the room, leaving the space full of cool shadows.

Stiles turned his attention to the large staircase that was pushed up against the wall to his right. At the top of the stairs he could hear the soft hum of voices.

He took a deep breath and made his way upstairs. He checked himself over once more before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” a man called from the other side.

Stiles pushed the door open.

This space was completely different: it was an open and airy with a small step down into the centre of the room. A few chairs were scattered about the lowered space and a desk was set across the room, framed by a large window. At the desk stood two men, one young with dark skin, and the other was older with sleeked back hair and bright blue eyes that met Stiles’ gaze.

The older man smiled at the boy and crossed the space. He extended his hand and shook Stiles’.

“A pleasure to meet you, Stiles,” the man greeted, “I’m Peter. I run this madhouse.”

“Partially,” the man at the desk muttered, not taking his eyes off of the brightly lit screen of his computer.

Peter glanced over his shoulder at the young man, but didn’t say anything. He turned his bright blue eyes back to Stiles.

“Before we go any further, I do have to ask you for ID,” Peter told him.

“Uh, yeah.” Stiles patted down his pockets before finding his wallet. He pulled out his driver’s licence and handed it over to the man. His heart skipped a beat as the man’s brow creased in confusion.

“I thought your name was Stiles?” Peter inquired.

“It is,” Stiles assured him.

Peter held up the ID. “So why does this say otherwise?”

“’Stiles’ isn’t my given name, but it’s my preferred name. My mum used to call me Stiles when I was younger and it kind of stuck,” Stiles explained. “So, it’s not the name on my licence, but it is my name.”

Peter nodded. “I see.”

Stiles swallowed hard.

Peter’s eyes met the boy’s again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that we have to be thorough.”

“I understand,” Stiles replied, his voice strained and quiet.

He handed the boy back his license. “Nervous?”

“A little,” Stiles admitted.

“That’s perfectly okay,” Peter assured him. “You did say you haven’t worked in this profession before. Are you familiar with the studio?”

“I’m familiar with the product,” Stiles confessed. “And I respect your ethical approach to the care of your actors and the output of your material.”

“That’s good to hear.” Peter crossed the room towards the couches. He gestured for Stiles to follow and waited for the boy to be seated before continuing, “We prefer people who aren’t exposed to the industry, especially young men. They learn certain behaviours that are… questionable.” He paused for a moment reaching forward to sip at a glass of water. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Peter nodded and sat back. “I’m sure you already know by now, but I should probably run through it for the sake of doing so. We operate under a policy of complete and informed consent. We are drug-free, including substances like Viagra or alcohol, which are common in other studios. You will have to undergo medical testing for such things as STDs or anything that could hurt yourself or your fellow actors. You can go to your own GP if you want or, if you’d prefer, you can see our doctor, Deaton, who is familiar with the industry and specialises in this sort of work.”

“Okay,” Stiles said.

“Use of protection during sex is to be discussed among those who are involved in the shoot. If protection is not used, the actors must take special care to insure that no injuries or harm is to come to their co-star or co-stars.”

Stiles nodded.

“Competition for placement in this studio is pretty high,” Peter continued. “We pay well and we treat our people well. If you get caught violating the rules, you’re out; the performers here trust each other with their bodies, you have to be worthy of that trust.”

“I understand.”

Peter looked at Stiles quizzically. “Why did you apply for this job?”

“I thought it’d be fun,” Stiles replied. “And… I kind of need money.”

“There’s no shame in that,” Peter assured him.

“To be honest, it was a spur of the moment thing and I never expected it to get this far.”

“You are welcome to back out at any time. Please don’t feel like you have to go through with anything you aren’t sure about or comfortable with. That’s what consent is.”

“No no no,” Stiles panicked. “I want to do this.”

Peter nodded. “Alright then. Should we get started?”

“Yes please.”

“I thought we’d start with something simple: some script reading and possibly a photo shoot to test you potential for modelling and acting. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Peter whispered. “I work behind the recording cameras for the films, but Isaac is better with a camera for stills and photoshoots.”

Peter smirked before glancing over the boy’s shoulder at the young man behind the desk. Before he opened his mouth, the young man held up the papers Peter wanted.

Peter stood up from the couch and retrieved the papers.

“Thank you, Boyd.”

The boy smiled but kept his eyes glued on the monitor.

“I have no idea where Derek is and Isaac is upstairs with Erica,” Peter announced, making his way back to Stiles’ side. “So you’ll have to read the scripts with me, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

 

After a while of reading lines and acting out minor scenes, Peter seemed content with the boy’s ability to perform.

“Now, are you sure you want to go through with this?” Peter asked. “I mean, you’re not signing your soul away or anything and you have the right to back out at any time, but if you’ve had enough for today, then I understand.”

“I’m okay to keep going,” Stiles assured him.

Peter nodded and turned to Boyd, who held his phone to his face.

“Erica’s on her way down,” the young man announced.

“Thank you.”

Seconds later, a young blonde woman made her way down the small spiral staircase. She was dressed in a tight strapless black dress that dissolved into lace around her thighs and matching black high-heeled boots that stopped at her ankle. The defined curves of her legs were in full sight and she flaunted them as much as she could. She wore dark eyeshadow and bright red lipstick, a look that would normally be trashy on anyone else but made her look classy and powerful. Her thick blonde hair was smoothed out into waves that cascaded down her back, bouncing off her shoulders as she made her way downstairs.

She paused at the bottom of the stairwell. Her eyes fell on Stiles, looking him up and down.

She glanced at Boyd and asked, “Is this the guy Derek was drooling over?”

Boyd nodded.

She turned her gaze back to the boy. She smirked and gnawed at her lip as she mused, “I can see why.”

“Erica, on your way back up to wardrobe, can you get Isaac?” Peter asked.

She turned back towards the way she came and shouted, “Isaac!”

Peter sighed. “Really?”

Erica smirked and winked at Stiles before turning and making her way into the other room.

Heavy footsteps came downstairs. A rugged-looking boy in jeans and a baggy grey tee-shirt made his way into sight. He chewed on a mouthful of food and ran his hands through his thick golden curls.

That was the first familiar face Stiles had seen: Lupin.

“What?” the boy asked, blinking tiredly as he stared at Peter.

“Photo shoot.”

Isaac’s eyes rolled over Stiles and then paused in thought for a moment. “If he survives Erica in wardrobe, send him up to Studio Two.”

“What’s wrong with One?”

“Two of the globes are blown in the overhead lights and I may or may not have thrown something through a window yesterday.”

Boyd snorted as he smothered his laughter.

Isaac turned and made his way upstairs again, not stopping as he called over his shoulder, “Derek’s going to help Erica and I fix it when he gets in.”

Peter frowned. “Where is he, by the way?”

“Why the hell are you asking me?” Isaac shouted before disappearing upstairs.

“Boyd?” Peter inquired, turning his attention to the boy.

“What Derek gets up to in his spare time is his business. I’d suggest you stay out of it,” the quiet boy muttered.

“You know where he is?” Peter pursued.

“Nope,” the boy answered honestly. “I haven’t got a clue.”

Peter sighed.

He turned back to Stiles. “Let’s get you to wardrobe, shall we?”

 

Erica sighed and slumped down in a chair.

“You’re just too damn perfect.”

“Thank you?” Stiles rasped.

“Part of this industry is hiding your identity so any work you do now won’t affect your life if you want to be a lawyer or a teacher or something in ten years’ time. The problem here is that your face is just too damn gorgeous to cover up,” Erica explained.

Stiles blushed and bowed his head.

“For Isaac, it’s easy. He tends to smile and giggle a lot during sex, so we just have to cover his face, but with lips like those, I bet you give the best blow jobs.”

“Stop teasing,” Peter growled from the corner.

Erica pouted and sat upright. “Which only leaves the choice of covering your eyes, which is still a major loss.”

Stiles bowed his head to hide his blush.

“So, the options are a blindfold, which is made out a specific fabric that lets you see out but refracts light so no-one can see in. A _Colombina_ mask, which could be a solid colour or it could be decorated, and it would cover the top half of your face but leaves your eyes visible and your mouth free. A _Volto_ mask, which covers your entire face but leaves your eyes visible and has a special decorative pattern around your eyes like a _Colombina_ mask would. A phantom mask, like phantom of the opera, which would cover half your face – although, I’d stay away from that because half a face is still a lot of exposure. There’s also bandanas or Venetian masquerade masks which are carved metal and filigree, making them a little more see-through.” Erica sat back in her chair. “Really, it’s up to you.”

Stiles swallowed hard.

Erica noticed his confusion. She smiled sweetly at him and continued, “Considering it’s your first time, I’d suggest a simple blindfold. It helps your performance when you get a sense of ‘I can see them but they can’t see me’. It’s not a permanent choice; you can always chose something else later if you want to experiment with them.”

Stiles nodded.

“Blindfold it is,” Erica chirped. She made her way over to a box in the corner. She brought it over and began to sort through the strips of fabric: solid colours, printed patterns of leopard spots and tiger stripes, the swirls of floral patterns and Gatsby print, glittery fabric and others.

“I’m thinking red,” Erica mused, lifting up a strip of vermillion fabric. She held it up by Stiles’ face. “Looks good on you. What do you think, Peter?”

Peter nodded.

“Okay, now that that’s sorted, I’ll walk you up to Studio Two,” Erica said.

 

‘Studio Two’ was the fourth floor of the building.

“Derek owns the building,” Erica explained. “He bought it as an investment and it seemed to turn out well for him. Peter runs the business but Derek owns it, although – unlike Peter – he doesn’t brag about it.”

Stiles watched as she made her way over to Isaac and talked to him quietly. After a moment, she handed Isaac the strip of bright red fabric that she had chosen as Stiles’ blindfold. She said a few last words and then patted his shoulder before turning to leave.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” she told Stiles, pausing by his side and casting a glance over her shoulder. “And you don’t have to worry about Isaac, he doesn’t bite. Not unless you want him too.”

She shut the door behind herself, leaving Stiles and Isaac alone in the quiet of the room.

“Sorry if I came off a little blunt earlier,” Isaac apologised. “I didn’t mean to give you the cold shoulder, I just tend to get grumpy when I’m hungry. And even more so if some interrupts me eating. Especially if that someone is Peter. In fact, I get annoyed with anything to do with Peter.”

“Is that why the window’s broken?” Stiles asked.

Isaac laughed. “No, but I do wish I had thrown him out the window, But, no, I tripped and knocked over a light stand. It fell over and broke the window.”

Isaac beckoned him towards the desk in the corner of the room.

“You don’t have to worry, we’re just going to take a few photos to test acting potential,” Isaac explained. “You don’t have to take your clothes off if you don’t want to, and I can play some music if you’d feel more comfortable that way. Hell, I’ll take off my clothes if that’d help.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll pass for now. I’m nowhere near as good looking as you.”

“I’ll take the compliment, but I think you’re putting yourself down,” Isaac replied. “I saw the photos. You’re a lot better looking than you think you are.”

Stiles smiled, a soft blush warming his cheeks.

“So, you’ve met Erica, the stunning blonde with a big set of lungs,” Isaac muttered as he set up his laptop and readied his camera. “She’s our costume designer, and when she’s not telling you how to dress, she goes by the stage name Luna. Her boyfriend, Boyd, is our editor: he works on the videos, films, and the photos, and he monitors the website and its functionality, casting, and all that tedious stuff that he never gets enough credit for. He’s really quiet and looks a little intimidating, but he’s a really nice guy. Derek and I work with photography and scripting. Like Boyd, Derek looks scary, but he is the most tender lover and the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. As for Peter, he ‘retired’ a while ago, and now he uses his twisted mind to direct us and films us.”

He stepped back from his computer and picked up the camera, popping the lens cap off of the end and testing the focus before looking up at Stiles.

“Do you want to get started?”

“Sure,” Stiles replied. “How do you want me?”

“You don’t want me to answer that,” Isaac answered with a mischievous smile. “We’ll start with a couple of easy poses. Over by the set up,” he instructed.

Stiles walked over to the section of the room that Isaac pointed out. It was a simple white sheet that had been hoisted up like a curtain but it was long enough to cover the floor too.

“Do you want music or anything?” Isaac asked, still fiddling with his camera.

“It might help,” Stiles replied.

Isaac reached back over to the desk and picked up a small iPod that sat among the mess of cords and chargers. He skipped through the songs and selected one. The music started to play out of a Bluetooth speaker by the set up.

“That good?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answered. He watched Isaac intently. “Do you want me to – uh – strip?”

Isaac glanced up at him. A wicked smile played on his lips. “I’d love to see you strip. But you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it. If you feel like you want to, but don’t want to go all the way, you can always take of your hoodie or your shirt.”

Stiles nodded and turned away for a second, hiding his bashful expression as he shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders. The room was heated to a comfortable temperature, but his anxiety made it feel a lot hotter than it actually was.

“Easy poses,” Isaac muttered to himself. He turned his attention to Stiles. “Firstly, let’s put this on.”

Isaac walked over to Stiles’ side and helped him strap the blindfold around his eyes, careful not to tie it too tight.

“These photos won’t go up unless you want them to, but it’s just in case you get the job – which I hope you do – and we want to use the photos. Besides, it’s easier to play up if you’re hiding behind a mask,” Isaac whispered, winking.

The older boy took a step back and looked Stiles up and down.

“Okay, we’ll start with you on your knees with your hands behind your head,” Isaac instructed. He waited as Stiles got into position. “Tilt your chin up a little and push your chest forward a bit.”

There was a couple of flashes as Isaac quickly took the photos and moved onto the next pose.

“Try lying down with your side facing me. Bend your back leg and put your hand behind your head. That’s it. Now, other hand on your waistline, tuck you thumb under your jeans. Nice. Head back a little. That’s perfect.”

A couple more flashes and clicks of the camera.

Stiles’ fluttering heartbeat began to settle. Isaac was right: it was easier when he didn’t show his face.

Isaac took a step back for a moment. He tilted his head, taking a moment to visualise things before giving his next lot of instructions, “Still lying on your side, turn more towards me. Prop yourself up on one arm and put your other elbow on your knee. Try pushing your hair back a little. That’s it.”

He crouched, camera in his hands, and quickly took a couple more photos.

“Perfect,” Isaac muttered. He glanced down at his camera, looking back over the photos and checking the lighting and framing. “All right.”

He glanced up at Stiles again, squinting in thought. “We’ll do a couple of portraits. So you can sit up normally.” He crouched down again and took a few photos, giving instructions as he went, “Tilt your chin up a little.”

Stiles followed, finding it easier and easier as it continued, partially because of how friendly and approachable Isaac was and how he worked quickly to make sure it didn’t become awkward.

They took a few more photos of Stiles looking back over his shoulder and a couple of action shots – nothing as impressive as Alpha’s profile photos: handstands, sweat-soaked push-ups, standing up against the cold bricks of the building with his hips jutting forward against his tight denim jeans, poses like the ones Stiles was modelling, and that leather jacket.

After a couple minutes of posing and photos, Isaac paused.

“Would you feel comfortable swapping your shirt for your hoodie?” Isaac asked. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Sure,” Stiles muttered, stripping off his shirt without a second thought.

“Holy crap,” Isaac said, aghast. He tossed Stiles the hoodie. “You’re too damn good looking to be covering up.”

“Maybe next time,” Stiles said, teasing him with a promise. “If there is a next time.”

“There had better be a next time, or I _will_ throw Peter out the window.”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. He pulled on his hoodie and awaited more instructions.

“Okay, get back down on your knees and sit back on your ankles,” Isaac said. “Let the jacket hand off your shoulders and pull it more in towards your lap. That’s it. Chin up again. Perfect.”

Isaac took the photos and quickly looked back through them.

“I’d say that’s a wrap,” he said. “You can get dressed if you want to.”

“Thanks,” Stiles whispered, collecting his shirt and redressing himself.

Isaac made his way over to the computer again, skipping back through the photos he had taken that had instantly downloaded to the laptop. He picked out his favourites and put them on display for Stiles.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Stiles made his way over to the teen’s side, looking at the photographs. “I think you have an incredible eye, but when did you freeze time to do all the photoshopping.”

“No photoshopping, that’s all you.”

Stiles was astounded. They genuinely looked good, better than he had ever thought.

“Now we’ve just got to figure out a name for you,” Isaac muttered. He looked at him, gently prodding the boy’s jacket. “How about Little Red?”

“Isn’t that a little… girly?” Stiles asked.

“Not really. Red is the colour of passion and energy. And it’s got a hit of irony in that there’s nothing about you that’s little.”

“How would you know?” Stiles asked, shocked.

“Work in this industry long enough and you learn how to judge a guy’s size by the flaccid bulge in his pants,” Isaac muttered. “Anyway, what do you think?”

“Little Red it is,” Stiles agreed.

“Sounds great,” Isaac said. “I’ll just send these down to Boyd and we’ll head back downstairs.”

Stiles followed him back into the first room he had entered.

“Boyd,” Isaac called as he entered the room. “I’ve sent them to you.”

“Opening them now,” the older boy replied.

Peter made his way over to the desk and took a seat beside Boyd.

Isaac offered Stiles a seat and went to fetch them a glass of water each.

Stiles took it gratefully, trying to stay calm as Boyd and Peter spoke quietly. He sipped at the water, trying to settle his heartbeat.

Isaac seemed to notice the boy’s anxieties and sat down with him. He gently patted Stiles’ hand and whispered, “It’ll be okay.”

“Isaac,” Peter called from the desk. “Rating?”

“Between an eight and a nine out of ten,” Isaac replied. “A little shy and anxious, but nothing worse than Boyd was on his first day.”

Boyd muttered something under his breath.

Peter simply nodded and looked back down at the computer screen.

“You did a lot better than Boyd,” Isaac whispered to Stiles, making the boy laugh.

There was a heavy thunk as the bar of the door slid back and another person entered the room.

“About time you got here,” Isaac called.  “You missed out on all the fun.”

Isaac turned his attention to Stiles and nodded towards the man who joined them.

“Stiles, this is Derek,” Isaac introduced.

Stiles swallowed hard and rose to his feet. He turned to look at the man.

The camera did not do him justice.

His dark grey shirt rippled over his muscles. The open V-neck collar of his Henley dipped down over his collarbone to reveal the patch of toned beige skin. He was a young man, but stern and handsome. His hair was dark and thick, cropped short at the base of his skull and across his strong jaw, the soft whiskers casting a shadow across his jaw and framing his sharp cheekbones. His wide-set eyes were pale beneath his dark brows, narrowed on him as the colour of his irises shifted in the light; from hazel to green, to a shade of light blue – clear, bright and focused.

The Alpha.

Derek.

“Hi,” Stiles whispered breathlessly.

“Hey,” Derek replied, somewhat stunned. He cleared his throat and continued, “Sorry, it’s just… you’re much better looking in person.”

“As are you,” Stiles replied.

There was so much more that Stiles wanted to say, but Peter interrupted, walking over to their side. He turned to face Stiles and smiled.

“If you still want it, the jobs all yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering about the research behind the masks, the Colombina masks and Volto masks are from a style of theatre called Comedia dell’Arte, and images of them can be found here, http://www.vivomasks.com/blogs/masquerade/8966917-the-7-different-types-of-masquerade-masks  
> As for the Venetian and filigree masks, they can be seen here, https://www.aliexpress.com/popular/cheap-masquerade-masks.html and all of them are so pretty and I wish I had them even though I have no reason to wear them. 
> 
> As for poses, I used common stock photos of male models as inspiration, but here are two of them if you’re struggling to image them:  
> https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/x/male-model-pose-25163618.jpg  
> and  
> http://previews.123rf.com/images/apollofoto/apollofoto0912/apollofoto091200111/6058153-Asian-male-model-posing-shot-in-studio-Stock-Photo-man.jpg
> 
> As for the photos on Derek’s page, there are plenty of photos of Tyler and Derek out there… yeah, you know the ones:  
> https://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m92yrfMbgJ1qahdp8o1_500.png  
> http://burdo.co/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/9cf1216a5a115bd7c9d239951f1e0127.jpg  
> https://tvrecappersanonymous.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/derek-body.gif?w=500&h=520  
> https://secure.static.tumblr.com/f78a4d436376d825669b3b8b445ef959/5debldv/dwio2wik7/tumblr_static_tumblr_static_8kagjlok1lwkkgkss44w4sooc_640.jpg


	4. Chapter 4

A few days later, Peter called him up to offer him a role in his first movie – a premiering video to introduce him to the site and the viewers. He explained what it would entail, who would be involved and where they would be filming. Before he hung up, he made sure to tell Stiles to bring his red hoodie.

And so, on the designated day, Stiles drove to the filming spot: a large, decaying house on the edge of the forest that surrounded the outskirts to town. The large manor was a heap of ashy ruins, the walls were caved in and wooden planks were missing.

Peter and Isaac were standing on the balcony, talking, when Stiles pulled up. He parked the Jeep and got out. His steps were cushioned by the blanket of falling leaves that crunched beneath his feet.

Stiles carried his hoodie; it was a strangely warm day for autumn.

“Hey,” Isaac called. “Glad you showed up.”

“Hey,” Stiles replied, stepping up onto the balcony to join them.

“Erica’s inside,” Isaac told him. “She’ll help get you ready and give you a heads up on what’s going to happen.”

“Okay,” Stiles replied, turning to head inside the large building.

As Isaac had promised, Stiles found Erica in the lounge room. She was sitting on the couch with a couple of boxes spread around her.

“Hey, sexy,” she greeted.

“Hi,” he replied, making his way past the cameras that were set up around the hallway and stepping down into the slightly sunken lounge room. He made his way over to Erica’s side and stood by the end of the couch.

“Are you nervous?” Erica asked, cutting straight to the point.

“A little, yeah,” Stiles admitted.

“It’s your first time, I don’t blame you. But it’ll be okay,” Erica promised. She turned her bright eyes to the boy and smiled. “Derek will take care of you and you don’t have to worry about onlookers; Isaac and I will be gone as soon as everything’s set up and Peter doesn’t talk while he’s filming.”

Stiles nodded. It was a little bit of a relief, but not enough to curb his anxiety.

“I’ve got your blindfold,” Erica announced, pulling it out of the box and setting it on the table. She patted at the couch cushion beside her.

Stiles sat down obediently.

She began to talk him through everything.

“It will be ‘raining’,” Erica explained. “And Isaac tends to get a bit heavy handed when he sets up the sprinklers for that so be ready to be absolutely soaked. Aside from the blindfold – which is a given - you’ll only be in your hoodie and jeans: no shoes and no shirt. You’ll come in from the woods and then the scene plays from there. You will be able to see through the blindfold so you shouldn’t run into any trees or fall over or anything.”

“Fifty bucks says I will anyway,” Stiles muttered.

Erica giggled. “Don’t worry; you’ll be great.”

She looked through the large box at her feet.

“You won’t need any make up, being wet and rugged with be enough,” she mused. “The only other thing you need to think about are these.”

She pulled out a box of condoms.

Stiles swallowed hard.

Erica passed them to Stiles and said, “It’s up to you and Derek whether you want to use them or not. We’re all health checked and safe, but some people find it more comfortable to use protection, others find it easier to do it raw. Really, it’s up to you; Derek is open to either option.”

Stiles nodded and thought about it.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Erica said, lifting her arms into the air. “Take one or two out and put them in your pocket. Take your time in deciding and just let Derek know before the filming.”

“Where is Derek?” Stiles asked.

“He’s running a few laps around the property,” Erica explained. “It goes as far out as the creek and he liked to get his adrenaline high before filming. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about stopping to get lube or anything because Derek has a way of sneaking it in during filming that doesn’t interrupt the scene or make you break character.”

Stiles took a deep breath.

“It’s just sex,” Erica said abruptly. “Everyone likes to think it’s extravagant and magical, but really it’s just sex with a little bit of acting and a little bit of editing.”

“Ten minutes,” Isaac called from outside.

“Okay,” Erica whispered. “Let’s get you changed and ready.”

Erica busied herself with tidying up her stuff and carrying it out to her car. Now left alone in the privacy of the room, Stiles stripped off his tee-shirt and pulled on his hoodie. He took a hold of the bright red strip of fabric he called a blindfold and made his way outside. He tossed his shirt into his Jeep and made his way back towards the house.

Isaac guided Stiles into position, just beyond the tree line. He helped Stiles tie the blindfold around his eyes and tested his visibility.

“Do you want me to tell Derek your decision?” Isaac asked.

“About what?” Stiles muttered, confused.

“Condoms.”

“Oh… uh…” Stiles swallowed hard. “None. I feel more comfortable without them sometimes.”

Isaac nodded. “Okay, I’ll go tell him.”

Isaac gave him a once over.

“You ready?”

Stiles sighed and shifted from foot to foot. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You scared?” Isaac challenged.

“Nah,” Stiles said with more confidence than he had. “Bring it on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this one is a short chapter, sorry about that. But I'll be posting two chapters today to make up for that. :)


	5. Chapter 5

The cool air stung his cheeks.

Heavy droplets of rain fell around him, soaking the bright red fabric of his jacket.

He wove his way through the forest. The pale, bleached bark of the birch trees glowed among the shadows of the pines and dense shrubbery. Their slender trunks were lined with eye-like rings that watched him from all angles.

Sharp branches scratched at his bare ankles, the soles of his feet disturbed the pools of water that gathered on the bodies of the fallen leaves. Brittle sticks crunched beneath his steps. His toes dug into the mud, upturning the dirt and releasing the sweet petrichor, the rich earthy scent.

The area was lit by the daylight but his vision was smeared and obscured by the falling rain.

The usual autumn tones of brown, gold and red were saturated by the water that fell over them.

The dense foliage hung overhead, enclosing the space and shutting out the sky but the bare branches and the frail leaves didn’t do much in the way of filtering out the light or the rain.

Clumps of leaves and low hanging branches crackled, shook and bowed as he stumbled into the open.

Little Red froze, eyes wide as they fell upon the large house before him.

He held his breath and he approached the dark ruins of the building, his pulse pounding in his ears as his heart thumped against his ribs. He crept up onto the balcony and knocked at the door. The sound echoed through the skeleton of the house, but there was no other sounds but the rain striking the wooden board and falling on the roof of the balcony.

He knocked again.

“Hello?” he called.

No answer.

He reached for the doorknob, feeling the cold metal of the old brass knob against his skin. He slowly turned it, finding the door unlocked. He turned the handle and opened it. The old hinges creaked and wailed as the door opened.

He took a step inside.

The wooden floorboards groaned beneath his feet and the dark shadows made the house feel cold and desolate.

“Hello?” he called again, his voice echoing throughout the hollow house. “Anyone home?”

Quiet.

Heavy footsteps thumped against the porch behind him.

Little Red span around. He swallowed hard as he looked at the dark figure that lingered in the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” the boy babbled. “I swear, I wasn’t trespassing.”

The large figure stepped into the house, shutting the door behind himself.

Now that his body wasn’t backlit by the dull daylight, the boy took in the man’s figure: golden skin rippled over his taut muscles, his broad chest was dusted with dark hair, and streams of water trickled down over his body. His hair was dark and thick, cropped short at the base of his skull and across his strong jaw, the soft whiskers casting a shadow across his jaw and framing his sharp cheekbones. His jaw was set in a scowl as he glared at the boy.

The Alpha.

“I’m sorry,” Little Red repeated. “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just wanted somewhere to stay until the rain stopped.”

The Alpha took a step closer to the boy, sizing him up.

“I don’t like company,” the man growled, his voice deep and husky. “If you want to stay here, you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

“Worth your while?” Little Red repeated, his voice breaking as his lips trembled.

The man took a step closer, pushing himself up against the boy’s body. He lifted his hand to the back of Little Red’s head, weaving his fingers through the mess of the boy’s chestnut brown locks. He balled his fist and tugged at the boy’s skull.

Little Red hissed in pain, silenced as he obediently fell into the Alpha’s hold. The man turned the boy’s head, pulling him closer as he hissed, “Worth my while.”

The Alpha crushed their lips together.

Little Red turned in Alpha’s hold, tilting his head back and deepening the kiss as his hands instinctively dropped to the man’s hips.

The Alpha walked him backwards until he was pinned against the wall, rolling his hips to accentuate the point.

He drew the boy in close, tilting his chin and deepening the kiss. He drew back for breath, rugged and savage. He held his composure as Little Red stared at him his eyes hidden behind the vermilion fabric.

Shock had overcome the boy, startled by the Alpha’s rash actions. But he discarded any logical thoughts, running his hands up Alpha’s chest and feeling the warmth of his flesh, the steady beat of his heart and the soft tufts of his chest hair. He ran his hands up to the back of the man’s neck, pulling him back into the kiss.

Alpha tightened his grip on Red’s hair, tugging it. Little Red moaned, the soft rumble rolling across their lips as the pain burnt at the back of his scalp.

Red opened his mouth and caught Alpha’s plump pink lip between his teeth. He bit down on the warm flesh.

Alpha ran his tongue across Little Red’s lips and urged him to open his mouth.

Red obeyed, welcoming the warmth of the man’s dominating tongue.

The boy’s other arm looped around Alpha’s neck, pulling the taller man down and deepening the kiss. His hands began to tremble as his lungs burnt for air.

Alpha pulled at the boy’s hair, breaking away to draw rugged breaths before crushing their mouths together again passionately. He shoved the boy back against the wall, his agile hands quickly undoing the zip of the Little Red’s hoodie. The jacket fell open, revealing the boys moonlight-pale skin that was dusted with star like moles. Alpha let out a low rumbling purr as he caressed the boy’s slender body, slowly sliding his hand lower and lower until his fingertips teased at the beltline of Red’s pants.

He raised his brow at the boy, a challenge to object.

Little Red didn’t react.

Alpha unlatched the boy’s belt, listening to the leather hiss as he pulled it free of the loops. He popped open the button of his pants, eyes locked onto Red’s lustful gaze as he sank down to his knees before the boy. He caught the zipper of Little Red’s pants between his teeth and dragged it down torturously slow.

Little Red’s excited broken gasps urged him on.

He ran his hands up the boy’s thighs, the thick denim of his pants dragging at the smooth flesh of his hands. He hooked his fingertips under the beltline of the boy’s pants and pulled them down to the floor where they rippled and gathered like a pool of dark blue water. He pressed his palms against Little Red’s sun-deprived skin, feeling the warmth seep into his skin as he slowly ran his hands up the boy’s legs.

Alpha’s hot breath ruffled the thin trail of hair that disappeared beneath the elastic band of Red’s underwear.

He licked his lips, ravenous, and tugged at the band of the boy’s underwear. He dragged the soft, cotton down to his ankles, exposing the boy’s half-hard cock.

Little Red gasped as the cool air rolled over his exposed flesh. He bit his lip, his cheeks were coloured by a soft rosy blush.

Alpha took the boy’s impressive length in his hand, gently palming it and pressing kisses along his shaft.

Little Red threaded his fingers through Alpha’s dark hair. His hips buckled towards Alpha’s face as the man pressed soft kisses against the exposed flesh of Red’s hip.

Alpha sank his teeth into the moonlight-pale skin, earning a pained hiss from Red. But the soft whimper died into an erotic hum as Alpha pressed soft kisses around the tender red mark, moving his hand up and down the length of Little Red’s shaft as he did.

He trailed soft kisses higher up Red’s thighs, searching for another sensitive spot where his muscles twitched beneath the tender touches. He bit into the ivory skin again, harder. Little Red let out a savage yelp, his hips buckling into Alpha’s hold in order to encourage him further.

Alpha pulled his mouth away from Red’s hip, kissing the reddening flesh. He craned his neck and gently nipped the man’s slender thigh, listening to Little Red’s gasps, moans and yelps. He kissed at the ring of teeth indents and purred against Red’s soft flesh, eliciting a needy whimper from the man as he began to thrust into Alpha’s hand.

Alpha chuckled, sitting back and turning his attention to the boy’s rigid cock.

Beads of precome spilt over his hands, helping him lube up Little Red’s pulsing cock. He leant forward and ran his tongue up the length. And then, without warning, he took him in his mouth all at once.

Red’s hips instinctively buckled into the warmth of his mouth, nails dragging at Alpha’s skull. Alpha growled at the jolt of pain, the rumble rolling through in his chest and vibrating against Red’s dick, making the boy gasp and sputter for air.

Alpha moaned, bobbing his head up and down, not setting any pace but moving fast enough that Red failed to draw breath between his broken whimpers.

He drew back, swirling his tongue around the tip of the boy’s cock, feeling salty beads dampen his tongue. He lapped at the head, delighted by Little Red’s unrestrained cry as he threw his head back, pressing the base of his skull against the withered wooden boards that covered the wall.

Alpha chuckled breathlessly. “Do you really like it that much?”

Red bit into his lips, letting out a weak whimper in reply.

“Tell me, Little Red: do you want to come now?” Alpha pressed a kiss to the tip of Little Red’s cock, feeling the boy’s legs weaken and tremble against the palms of his hands, threatening to give way. “Or do you want me to fuck you to breaking point?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got two in me,” the boy gasped.

Alpha didn’t say anything more. He tightened his grip at the base of Red’s cock, sinking down over him and sucking at his length. He dragged his lips back to the tip, swirling his tongue around the head before sinking back down again, bobbing and purring against his warmth as Little Red cupped the back of Alpha’s skull and began to thrust into his mouth.

The boy hissed as his rugged breaths were drawn through his gritted teeth. He began to moan uncontrollably as his stomach tensed and he grew closer to his climax. Red choked on his breath as he came, his knees trembled as Alpha sank down over his length.

Hot, salty semen flowed down the man’s throat.

Alpha tightened his lips around Little Red’s cock, dragging his mouth up the boy’s length and draining him. He sat back on his heels and he swallowed. He licked at the stands of come that had dripped across his plump, pink lips.

Little Red tried to steady his breathing. His lips trembled slightly as Alpha lifted his gaze to meet Red’s, his eyes hidden behind the black fabric of his blindfold.

The man’s voice was low and husky as he said, “I’m going to make you mine.”

His rough hands span the boy around, pushing him up against the wall as he spread his cheeks. He trailed kisses down the inside of the boy’s thigh, encouraging him to spread his legs as he brought his face to the boy’s ass. He ran his tongue across the boy’s opening, listening to the boy inhale and roll his hips towards his mouth. Alpha ran his hands along the boy’s inner thighs, pinning his hips against the worn down wooden board on the wall. He dragged his tongue across Red’s entrance again, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue in slow, torturous circles.

His crotch throbbed at the sound of Red’s unrestrained gasps and groans.

He moved his hand up to the boy’s come-slick cock, gently grazing the palm of his hand against his returning erection.

“Oh God,” Little Red gasped, unravelling before the Alpha as he thrashed about. “Alpha.”

Alpha hummed against his entrance.

Little Red cried out with delight, raking his nails across the walls.

Alpha slid his tongue into the boy.

The boy’s hips twitched, indecisive of whether to roll into Alpha’s hand or against his face.

Alpha couldn’t help but smirk as Little Red whimpered when he withdrew his longue. He gently sucked at his entrance, dragging his tongue across it before quickly lapping at it. He set a pattern of slow drags, soft sucking and quick flicks of his tongue that tortured erotic gasps from the boy.

The boy’s feet kicked and thrashed uselessly as he tried to press harder against Alpha, frustrated moan filling the air as Alpha lightly flicked his tongue against his entrance.

Alpha felt the boy’s cock grow harder and slicker, precome liberally spilling from the head and dripping over his hand.

He repeated the pattern, harassing animalistic groans from Little Red as the man dipped his tongue in and out of the boy’s opening.

Alpha drew back, drinking in the sight of Little Red sprawled out before him and whimpering for his touch.

He pressed his fingertips against the boy’s opening, slowly massaging the tense muscle. He slipped one finger in, pushing against the pressure and resistance. He sank in one knuckle at a time, listening to the boy’s broken cries.

Alpha placed a soft kiss to the boy’s inner thigh, a rumbling growl rolling across his skin as he sunk his finger in deeper.

The boy’s back arched back against his hand, a rugged cry tearing at his throat as Alpha slowly eased his finger in and out of the boy.

Little Red rolled his head back and tried to slow his breathing. His teeth tore into his lip as Alpha sank a second finger into him. He waited a moment for Red to relax before sliding his fingers in further.

A heavy moan dragged its way out of the boy’s chest.

Alpha stilled his fingers, waiting for Little Red to calm down again before curling his fingertips against the boy’s prostate.

The boy yelped and ground against Alpha’s fingers, letting out a broken wail that begged for more.

“There?” Alpha teased, slowly working his fingers back and forth and curling his tips again. He stilled his hand and withdrew from the boy.

He rose to his feet, pressing his warmth against the boy’s back. He craned his neck and gently kissed and nipped at the boy’s neck.

Alpha stripped off his own pants and slid his hand around the boy’s waist, pulling Red’s hips back against his. He ran his broad hand up the curve of the boy’s spine, encouraging him to bend over and brace his hands against the wall.

He ran his hands back down the boy’s side and grasp his soft ass cheeks. He gently kneaded the soft tissue, spreading his cheeks. He rolled his hips against the boy’s ass.

Red purred, pushing his hips back against Alpha’s erection.

Alpha teased at the boy’s entrance with the head of his cock. He lined himself up with the boy’s hole and slowly sank into him.

The boy tensed for a moment at the intrusion and jolt of pain, breathing heavily and smothering a moan as he tried to relax and welcome the man’s length.

The Alpha waited until Red hummed and pushed his ass back against Alpha’s dick before continuing.

He rolled his hips again, stirring a moan from the boy. He set a rhythm of slow, shallow thrusts until the boy settled. After that, he quickened his thrusts pulling out further and slamming his length into the boy’s ass again and again.

Little Red threw his head back, his cry tearing at his breathless lungs.

Alpha gently massaged the boy’s shoulder, urging him to rest his weight against the wall.

Red spread his hands and watched as his hot breath steamed in front of his face.

Alpha arched over Red, his thrusts faster and deeper as he nipped at the ridges of the boy’s shoulder blades.

The boy gasped and moaned at the sensation.

Alpha purred in response, biting a little harder.

Red yelped, his hips buckling forward before grinding back against Alpha’s length.

Alpha reached round the boy, taking the boy’s rigid length in his hand. He gently stroked the boy’s shaft, rolling his thumb across his dribbling head.

Red’s hips jerked as if he were unsure of whether to thrust into Alpha’s grasp or back against his penetrating cock.

His stammered gasps and broken moans escalated into one drawn out cry as his nails scratched at the wall.

Alpha growled in response. He moved his hand quicker, jerking the boy’s dick until his legs were trembling.

Little Red cried out. Spurts of come erupted from the head of his cock, splashing against his abs and drizzling over Alpha’s hands.

Alpha steadied a hand on the boy’s hip, thrusting rapidly into the boy’s tight ass.

Both of them let out ragged cries as Alpha drew closer to his climax and the boy’s mind was clouded with oversensitivity.

“What would you say if I were to come in your ass and claim you, huh?” Alpha growled. “Would you like that, Little Red?”

The boy let out a needy whimper.

“Yeah?” Alpha teased, burying his length deep inside the boy. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” Little Red gasped. “I belong to you, Alpha.”

Alpha bucked his hips and climaxed. Spurts of come erupted from his cock, filling the boy’s ass.

The sensation tipped the boy over the edge. He threw his head back against Alpha’s shoulder, gasping for air as sparks of light blinded him and another wave of come spilled from his dick.

The man purred, rolling his hips as the boy’s tight ass milked his orgasm.

He pressed tender kisses to the curve of the boy’s shoulder, gently nipping at the pale skin of his neck as he purred, “Good boy.”


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles slowly blinked himself awake to the familiar space of his bedroom. Surrounding him were four cool blue and grey walls that were decorated by scattered photos and posters, the occasional note or coloured string connecting to pieces of paper like an investigation board. Across from him was a thick wooden desk, covered in piles of printed worksheets, homework and textbooks, pens buried between sedimentary layers of paper.

_How’d I get back home?_

He sat upright and glanced down at the rustling fabric which had dropped around his waist. He noticed the smooth black leather jacket which fluttered among the sheets. He pulled it free of the rippling cotton blanket and lifted it to his nose and inhaled the distinct scent; a warm musk of primal sweat, sweetened by the lingering smell of pines and birch trees. Derek.

Stiles moaned as he made a pathetic attempt to kick off the blankets and roll out of bed. He dragged his feet across the soft shag carpet and made his way over to the bedroom door.

He paused, listening to the quiet voices of the hushed conversation downstairs. Slowly, he made his way down into the living room.

“Hey, kiddo,” hid dad greeted.

“Hi,” Stiles said slowly. “How did I get home?”

“You fell asleep at work, so I drove you home,” a second voice explained.

Stiles jumped slightly.

What was he doing here?

Almost as if he could read Stiles’ mind, John explained, “Derek, here, was just telling me how good you are a modelling.”

 _Modelling?_ Stiles thought.

Stiles felt his heart skip a beat as his shoulders dropped and he let out a sigh of relief.

Derek had lied for him.

“You didn’t tell me you were modelling,” John said rather accusingly.

Stiles shrugged.

“I’m sorry but I should get going,” Derek announced, rising from his seat.

John stood up as well and offered Derek a handshake. The man took it with a kind smile as he said his farewells to the Sheriff.

Stiles followed him out to his car.

“Thanks for not telling my dad,” Stiles whispered.

Derek smiled sweetly at him.

Stiles looked slightly embarrassed. “Did I really pass out?”

“Not so much pass out as fell asleep from exhaustion,” Derek explained.

Stiles bowed his head.

“Hey,” Derek said softly, craning his neck to meet Stiles’ eye. “It happens, more often than not. Don’t worry about it. Just rest up, drink or eat something with a bit of sugar in it and take care of yourself.”

Stiles nodded and muttered, “Thank you.”

Derek gently patted Stiles’ shoulder and climbed into his sleek black Camaro.

The boy was quiet for a second before he asked, “You didn’t tell my dad anything else, did you?”

“Only that we had the best sex I’ve ever experienced,” Derek teased. “Isaac drove your Jeep back to the office, so – if you want – you can call me tomorrow and pick you up, drive you there and you can drive home. Or if you have places you need to be tonight, you can call Isaac and he can drive it over for you.”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t see any urgency. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it,” Derek whispered. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you,” Stiles farewelled. He stepped back and waved goodbye as Derek drove off down the street.

 

Stiles did what he said he would and Derek followed through on his word. He picked up Stiles the next morning and drove him to the office.

Stiles collected the keys to his Jeep from Isaac upstairs and thanked him.

“By the way,” Isaac called after him. “Peter’s already planning another script for you and I’ve seen what Boyd’s got his hands on for editing… holy crap, that was hot.”

Stiles bowed his head in an attempt to hide his blush.

“If you’re looking for Derek, he’s up in wardrobe getting ready for a photoshoot,” Isaac announced.

“Thanks,” Stiles muttered. He turned and walked back out the door. He made his way upstairs to wardrobe. He stepped inside the small room and froze.

His eyes were drawn to the man’s abs, or – more accurately – the thick rippling salmon-pink skin that covered a thick gash. The scar ran across the golden flesh of his toned abdomen. Stiles’ eyes focused on the thick flesh-coloured prosthetic in Derek’s hand.

“Sorry,” Stiles apologised profusely and turned to leave.

“Stiles, wait,” Derek called after him.

Stiles halted.

Derek set down the prosthetic and walked over to Stiles’ side. He stayed a step or two away from the boy as he whispered, “It’s just a scar, that’s all it is. I wear a prosthetic to cover it up because it’s not visually appealing to our viewers.”

Stiles swallowed hard and kept his eyes on the toes of his shoes.

“So far only you, Peter and Erica know about it,” Derek explained. “Not because I want to keep it a secret, but because Isaac might act a little weirdly if he found out. And can you please look at me because this is getting weird.”

Stiles turned around and met Derek’s gaze.

Derek slowly reached forward and took a hold of Stiles’ hand. He took a step closer to Stiles and laid the boy’s hand against his abs.

Stiles’ fingers twitched slightly.

“It’s just a scar,” Derek repeated.

Stiles dared to look down. He ran his fingers over the ridges and the deep grooves of the scar.

“What happened?” Stiles asked before thought to stop himself.

“My last girlfriend, Jennifer, stabbed me,” Derek replied.

Stiles’ dark eyes glittered with an amber glow as they caught the light. He looked as if he were the one in pain.

“Will you please say something?” Derek begged.

“You had a girlfriend?” Stiles muttered. He quickly realised what he had said and cringed. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right thing to say.”

Derek smiled sweetly, a soft chuckle echoing in his chest.

“Yes, I had a girlfriend,” he answered. “I’ve had three in fact.”

“Why do you act with guys?” Stiles rasped. “I’m sorry, I’m asking all the wrong questions.”

“I like guys and girls, and it’s easy to have sex with someone, but I prefer to have an emotional relationship.”

Stiles’ eyes flicked up to meet Derek’s. For a moment he lost himself in the aventurine depths.

“Why did she stab you?” Stiles asked in a hushed voice, almost as if he were scared to speak.

“I still don’t know.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

“I won’t tell Isaac,” Stiles promised.

“And you won’t treat me differently?”

Stiles nodded. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

Stiles met his gaze and watched as the swirling depths shimmered and shift colour.

“I promise.”


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles had been tossing and turning for days, seemingly haunted by the memory of Derek’s scar. He hadn’t gotten the new script yet and he had ignored the link to his first video that Isaac had sent him with a rather lewd message attached to it. He stayed quiet as he went about his normal life: running errands, catching up with friends, dropping things that his dad had forgotten off to the police station, eating takeout for dinner, and finishing off the final few assignments he had before he finished school.

But the thoughts still plagued him.

Not the fact that Derek had a scar, he was completely okay with that; millions of people have scars, some more serious and ugly than others, but there was still something about it that bothered Stiles.

What disturbed him was the thought that someone had done that to Derek. Someone, who he had trusted and loved enough to let into his life, had betrayed him and hurt him.

How could Jennifer do that to him? How could _anyone_ do that to him?

Stiles sighed heavily and buried his face in his hands.

His thoughts were interrupted as his phone buzzed.

He made a weak attempt at grabbing it and opened the email.

It was from Peter.

“Finally,” Stiles said as he opened the attached document: the new script.

Peter’s message ran through the usual details: who would be involved, where and when they would be shooting and what Stiles would need to bring if need be.

So Stiles showed up to the studio on the assigned day and made his way upstairs.

He opened up the door to the main office. He yelped and ducked as a thick wad of paper was hurled in his direction.

“You’re an inconsiderate piece of shit!” Derek howled.

“Derek, just take a second, calm down and tell me what I did wrong,” Peter replied calmly.

“You know damn well what you did wrong. It’s the one thing I can’t do!”

Stiles looked up in time to see Peter’s composure falter as he realised his mistake.

“One thing, Peter!” Derek bellowed. “The one thing I can’t do, you put in that fucking script.”

Derek turned and stormed out of the office without another word.

Stiles stayed where he was, frozen with fear. After a moment of silence, he dared to speak up.

“Can someone tell me what the hell that was about?”

Peter looked ashamed as he muttered, “Bondage. The one thing Derek will not participate in is bondage.”

The room was silent.

Boyd and Erica hid behind the computers and Isaac sat on the stairwell.

“I should go talk to him,” Peter whispered.

“No,” everyone said in unison.

“You’ll just make it worse,” Isaac added.

“Let me talk to him,” Stiles offered.

Before anyone could stop him, he turned and made his way out of the room. He climbed up the stairs, checking every filming studio before climbing the fire escape up to the rooftop.

Derek sat on the rough concrete, leaning back against the small brick wall the circled the roof.

Stiles sighed and made his way over to Derek’s side.

He sat down next to the man and pulled out his phone to open up the attached PDF file of the script.

“‘Alpha is chained to a pipe overhead as Red ravishes his body’,” Stiles read mockingly in an overly exaggerated sexual tone. He paused, returning to his normal voice as he said, “You’re right: it is shit.”

Derek bowed his head.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispered. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“I don’t blame you for yelling. I’m sure there’s a reason you don’t do it – and I won’t push for an explanation. I’m sure there’s another way we could do this though. What if you just stood there?” Stiles proposed.

Derek glanced at him, raising his brow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Stiles said, slightly offended. “You can’t blame me for not wanting to go through with this.”

“For the money?” Derek asked.

“For the experience,” Stiles corrected. “You are a very attractive man and I would happily worship your body in a more intense manner than the script proposes.”

Derek smirked.

“Just think of how sexy and empowering it would be to have you standing still while I ‘ravish’ your body. Or I could push you back against the bed and pin you down on the mattress,” Stiles said suggestively.

Derek chuckled at Stiles’ word use, but the sound died away as he let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s another ex,” Derek muttered.

“Hmm?”

“The reason I can’t do it is because of another ex,” the man confessed. “I really don’t have a good track record with women.”

Stiles smiled encouragingly.

Derek drew in a deep breath and explained, “Her name was Kate. I met her when I was seventeen and I was stupid enough to think she loved me. She invited me over one night and took me down to the basement. She chained me to a chain link fence she had set up and abused me: emotionally, psychologically, physically and sexually.”

Stiles watched as Derek’s eyes glittered with pain, the resurfacing memories of his trauma making tears well and glisten.

“I was there for three months: ninety-one days,” Derek muttered, his husky voice strained. “I got mad at Peter for forgetting because he was the one who found me. I thought he understood.”

Stiles reached across and laced his fingers with Derek’s. He gave the man’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“I don’t know why you listen to me,” Derek whispered.

“Because someone needs to,” Stiles explained. “I don’t mean that in a way that suggests is a duty or I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time, I mean to say that I’m here for you.”

Derek met the boy’s gaze.

“Why is it so easy to talk to you when I can’t ever talk to anyone else?” Derek mused.

Stiles shrugged and replied, “If you ask my best friend, he’d say that I have a really dumb-looking face that welcomes sympathy and make people feel comfortable talking to me.”

“I don’t think you have a dumb-looking face,” Derek argued. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

Stiles felt his cheeks warm with a rosy blush as he bit his lip. His eyes flicked up to meet Derek’s as he whispered, “I could never hold a candle to you. So, why don’t we go back downstairs and I’ll show you how to be worshipped like the deity you are.”

 

Little Red climbed up onto the bed and crawled across to Alpha’s side. He lifted his hand to the man’s chest, running his fingers down through the seams of his muscles, gentle enough that it left Alpha shuddering. He arched towards the boy’s hands, silently begging for more.

Warm hands trailed up Alpha’s sides, fingers running across the ridges of his ribs, up his chest and along his biceps, pinning his arms above his head. Soft lips latched onto his throat, gently kissing and sucking at the golden skin. Smooth teeth gently grazed his jugular, nipping at the flesh as they made his way up to his jaw. The warm breath made him shiver. The soft kisses returned, trailing along his jaw and seeking out the scattered moles on his face. He sighed heavily and gasped as their hips ground against each other.

Alpha moaned, longing for the touch, the warmth.

Little Red dug his nails into the firm bicep, eliciting a low growl from the man as he bucked his hips in response.

“More,” Alpha gasped, crotch throbbing.

Soft lips latched onto his earlobe, making him hiss and gasp. His hips arched off the mattress only to be thrust back down among the sheets by a surprisingly firm hand.

Red ran his fingers down the trail of hair that lead to Alpha’s crotch. Alpha bucked his hips towards Red’s hand with a needy whimper, only to have to boy move his hand back up to Alpha’s shoulder.

Alpha whimpered.

Little Red trailed his fingers through the seams of Alpha’s muscles, feeling them tense and flex beneath his touch.

“Oh God,” Alpha gasped, his voice choked by his whimpers. “More.”

He brought his fingers up to Alpha’s chest and gently pinched one of his firm nipples.

Little Red brought his lips closed to Alpha’s ear, gently nibbling at his lobe as a low rumbling purr resonated in the boy’s chest.

Alpha moaned, his hips buckling upwards. He clawed at the sheets, his nails threatening to tear the soft cotton.

He trailed soft kisses down to Alpha’s thighs. He gently nipped at the golden skin, listening as Alpha let out a savage cry.

Red pulled his mouth away from Alpha’s hip and kissed the reddening flesh. He craned his neck and gently nipped the man’s firm thigh, listening to Alpha’s gasps, moans and yelps. He kissed the ring of teeth indents and purred against Alpha’s soft flesh, eliciting a needy whimper from the man as he began to thrust into Red’s hand.

Little Red chuckled as he sat back and turned his attention to the man’s rigid cock.

Beads of precome spilt over his hands, helping him lube up Alpha’s pulsing cock. He leant forward and ran his tongue up the length. And then, without warning, he took him in his mouth all at once.

Alpha’s hips instinctively buckled into the warmth of the boy’s mouth, his nails dragging at the back of Red’s skull.

Little Red growled at the jolt of pain. The rumble rolled through in his chest and vibrated against the man’s dick, making the man gasp and sputter for air. He let out a teasing moan as he bobbed his head up and down.

Alpha threw his head back and thrusted up into Red’s mouth as he hit his climax and came, his semen flowing down the boy’s throat.

Red slowly drew back, milking the man of every last drop.

He sat back and swallowed. A coy smirk lifted his lips as Alpha sat upright and brought his lips to Red’s in a tender kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles pulled up to the curb and parked his Jeep. He shut off the engine and stepped out onto the rough concrete pathway. He crossed the glistening grass of his front yard and bounced up to the front door.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Dad, I’m home,” he called.

The house was silent.

The door groaned and swung shut with a heavy thud.

Stiles froze.

His dad wasn’t working tonight and he hadn’t told Stiles about anything he had planned.

Stiles took a couple of steps into the house.

The quiet sound of tinkling glass drew his attention to the man who sat at the dining table.

“Dad?” Stiles said cautiously. “What’s going on?”

The boy’s eyes were drawn to the amber liquid that sloshed about in the whiskey bottle, crashing against the glass as his father gulped back the liquor.

Stiles’ heart sank into his stomach as his gut churned. He gulped back thin breaths.

 _Not again_.

John set down the bottle.

“One of my deputies had a funny story for me today,” John slurred. “He told me about this video he had seen. He said you were in it.”

Stiles swallowed hard.

John stared at the bottle in his hand, completely mesmerised by the small bubbles that were caught beneath the swirling tides of whiskey. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and downed the liquid, finishing off the bottle.

He drew breath to talk but stopped, picking up another bottle.

“I thought he was kidding, so he showed me the website… Modelling, huh?”

“I’m not talking to you while you’re drunk,” Stiles dismissed, turning away and walking towards the lounge room. He picked up the phone and began to punch in the phone number he had memorised years ago.

“Stiles!” his father howled. He rose from his seat and stalking towards the boy.

John stumbled about, waving the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him. His eyes and cheeks were flushed red as he spat the slurred words, saliva dribbling from his lips.

“Who are you calling?”

Stiles ignore the man and blinked back the heavy tears that welled in his eyes.

“Answer me, Stiles! Who are you calling?!”

The phone clicked as someone picked up and a familiar voice answered, “Hello?”

“It’s Stiles,” the boy rasped. “He’s drinking again.”

“I can be there in five minutes. If you can, take the alcohol away from him. If you feel threatened, go upstairs and hide in your room. I’m on my way over now.”

“Thank you,” Stiles whispered before hanging up.

Stiles ignored his father’s fierce glare as he turned and made his way over to the stairs.

Stiles could hear the whiskey slosh in the bottle, waves of golden liquor crashing against the glass. He could smell it on his father as the man followed him.

“Stiles!”

“No,” the boy retorted. “I am not talking to you while you’re like this!”

John grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him close.

Stiles thrashed about, his arm burning as the man’s grip tightened around his wrist.

There was a quiet knock at the door.

Stiles pulled his hand free and stepped around the man. He made his way over to the door and pulled it open slightly.

“Hey,” Derek greeted with a sweet smile.

“Hi, what are you doing here?”

“You left this at the studio,” Derek explained as he offered Stiles his favourite red hoodie.

Stiles was stunned for a moment. He took the jacket with a smile and said, “I didn’t realise I had left it behind, thank you.”

“Is that him?” John yelled from inside the house.

Stiles flinched slightly.

“You should go,” the boy told Derek.

“Is everything okay?” Derek asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Just go,” Stiles whispered. “Thanks for bringing back the jacket.”

Derek nodded, but before he had the chance to turn and leave, John pulled Stiles back inside and grabbed Derek by the front of his shirt. He hurled the man inside and slammed his fist against Derek’s jaw.

Derek collapsed to the ground, stunned.

“Dad!” Stiles cried, stepping between the two men.

“What are you doing here?” John growled at Derek. “You here for another fuck?”

“Dad,” Stiles said warningly. He glanced over his shoulder. “Derek, just go.”

“You son of a bitch,” John hissed at Derek. “You filthy pig.”

“Dad, that’s enough!”

John shoved Stiles aside.

The boy hit the nearby doorframe with a painful whack.

“Stiles!” Derek called.

Stiles leapt to his feet and tackled his dad. He pushed the man up against the wall and wrestled the bottle of whiskey out of his hand.

Before John could protest, Stiles stormed outside and emptied the bottle across the grass.

“Stiles,” John howled as he stalked out onto the front lawn.

Stiles tossed the bottle into the bin despite his father’s protests.

“Stiles!”

“Seven years!” the boy retorted, hot tears burning at his eyes as he stared down his father. “Seven years and you fucked it up.”

A large white four-wheel-drive pulled up to the curb.

Melissa bounded out of the driver’s seat and raced across to her friend’s side.

“Come on, John,” she said softly. “Let’s go back inside.”

Stiles watched for a moment as Melissa guided the man back inside. The boy let out a soft sigh before he turned and trudged down the street.

“Stiles,” Melissa called after him.

Stiles ignored her and kept walking.

“I’ll get him,” Derek assured her before racing after Stiles.

“Just leave me alone,” Stiles growled.

“Okay,” Derek muttered as he caught up to the boy.

“Stop following me.”

“I can’t help it if I’m walking the same way,” Derek replied, offering Stiles his jacket.

An icy chill ran up the boy’s spine, making his frail limbs shudder. Stiles took a hold of the jacket and muttered, ‘Thank you.’

He pulled on the jacket and zipped it up before burying his hands in the pockets.

Stiles made a swift turn, crossed the damp grass and made his way over to the quiet playground. He slumped down on one of the swings, listening as the chains jingled and chimed.

Derek sat down on the swing beside him.

A heavy blanket of silence fell over them.

Derek spoke first.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

“He found out,” Stiles replied, his voice strained and weak.

“About Omega?”

Stiles nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.”

There was another moment of quiet before Derek dared to ask, “What was seven years?”

“Sobriety,” Stiles replied. “Well, not completely sober, but seven years of control over his alcoholism. He hasn’t drunk that much since my mum died.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek repeated.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Stiles said softly. “She had dementia. My dad… he didn’t cope with losing her and being left to raise me alone. I quickly learnt to keep things to myself and not tell him things that would tip him over the edge.”

“How did he find out?” Derek asked.

“One of his deputies saw the video and showed him,” Stiles answered.

The silence returned.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles rasped. “You’ve been so open and honest with me and I can’t even tell you what happened tonight.”

“It’s okay,” Derek assured him. “You’re in shock and you don’t owe me any answers.”

Stiles took a deep breath.

“My grandpa didn’t approve of my parents’ marriage. My mum hoped that naming me after him would help rebuild bridges,” Stiles explained. “My grandpa assured her that he had set aside all differences they had and told her he was taking me to the park. When we got here, he told me that there was a present for me in the lake. I went to look and he held me under the water. Melissa and her husband were here with Scott that day and they came to my rescue. After that, my own parents couldn’t even say my name, so they called me Stiles and it stuck. Not long after that, my mother was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia. She would forget who I was and, the times when she did remember, she thought I was trying to kill her. She died when I was ten. My dad was out on patrol, finishing a case and I was alone with her at the hospital.”

Stiles blinked back tears and continued, “I held her hand as she died and then I sat in the hallway and waited for my dad. After that, the bottle became his best friend and I was a burden. It took a year and a half and a lot of close calls on both our behalves before he finally set the bottle down… Seven years… Seven years and he threw it all away.”

Derek reached across and took a hold of Stiles’ hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze and gently ran his thumb across the ridges of the boy’s knuckles.

Stiles smiled weakly, sniffing back tears. He rested his head against the chain of the swing and looked over at Derek.

There was a moment of comfortable quiet.

“I bet I can swing higher than you,” Stiles challenged.

Derek smirked. “You’re on.”

He let go of Stiles’ hand and sat up straight. The old chains groaned slightly as the two kicked back and forth and swung higher and higher.

Stiles leant back on his swung, his toes pointed upwards at the glistening stars above.

Derek’s heart fluttered at the sound of Stiles’ laughter.

The boy began to slow down. He leapt off of his swing, stumbling slightly before collapsing to the ground.

Derek did the same, hitting the ground and rolling over to Stiles’ side.

The boy kept laughing as Derek rolled on top of him and sat up, straddling the boy’s waist.

Stiles’ laughter faltered and died away slightly as he met Derek’s gaze.

He watched as Derek’s eyes reflected the light of the streetlamps and glittered like the stars above.

Stiles slowly leant forward.

Derek’s shoulders dropped and his eyes fluttered shut. He pressed his forehead to Stiles’ and nuzzled into the boy’s warmth. He tilted his head so his lips were millimetres away from the boy’s, his warm breath rolling across Stiles’ lips.

Stiles tilted his chin up and brought their lips together in a brief, tender kiss. His arms instinctively slid up to Derek’s neck, his fingertips brushing against Derek’s jaw before trailing back to the nape of his neck. He laced his fingers through the soft tufts of Derek’s hair.

Derek seemed to weaken, the kiss growing more gentle and tender.

Stiles tilted his head and deepened the kiss, pulling Derek in closer and losing himself in the older boy’s warmth.

Derek drew back, enough to let the boy to draw breath.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Derek whispered before bringing their lips together again.

Derek dropped one hand to Stiles’ waist and pulled him close. He rested his other hand on the back of the younger man’s neck and brushed the ball of his thumb across the soft skin.

Stiles sighed and whimpered needily in return, weaving his fingers into Derek’s raven black hair.

“Hmm?”

Derek pulled back slightly and asked, “Will you go out with me?”

“I might have to think about that,” Stiles purred.

Derek leant in closer and crushed their mouths together as if he were trying to persuade Stiles. He drew back slowly.

“Yes,” Stiles gasped before pulling Derek back into the kiss.

He ran his free hand down the man’s shoulders, biceps and back. He wanted to feel every inch of Derek’s skin, to trace the seams of his muscles, to feel his curves, to feel the warmth that radiated off of his body and melt into the comfort of his arms.

He fell back weakly against the ground and let Derek lower his body onto the boy.

Derek drew back slowly, leaving Stiles panting for breath.

“We should get you home before you get pneumonia,” Derek said, sitting back and pulling Stiles up with him.

Stiles slid his hand into Derek’s, lacing their fingers together as they made their way back down the street to Stiles’ house.

They gently pushed open the door and listened to the quiet, ready to run if John began another fit of rage.

Melissa slowly crept into the foyer. She smiled weakly at the two of them and whispered, “He passed out on the couch a little while ago. I’ve taken away all of the alcohol in the house and the empty bottles are in the bin. How are you two?”

“I’m fine,” Stiles replied, keeping his voice low in order to avoid waking his dad. “But he did hit Derek.”

Melissa’s eyes grew wide with fear as she looked at the young man, his jaw already blossoming with splotches of red and purple.

“It’s nothing,” Derek dismissed. “I’ve had worse.”

Melissa took a step closer and had a look at the young man’s chin. “It’s bruising and it may be a little swollen for a couple of days but it doesn’t look like anything’s broken. If it starts hurting badly, come see me.”

“I will,” Derek promised.

“Are you going to be okay along with him?” Melissa asked Stiles.

“He won’t be alone,” Derek told her. “I’m going to stay here with him.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Stiles whispered.

“I want to… if you’ll let me.”

Stiles smiled and nodded.

“Okay, if that’s decided, I’d better get home. I’ve got an early start. Call me if you need anything. If not, I’ll come over tomorrow after my shift,” Melissa announced. She gave Stiles a kiss on the cheek and turned to leave.

“Bye,” Stiles farewelled.

He waited for her to get in the car and leave before he shut the front door and locked it.

“Come on,” Stiles encouraged, taking Derek’s hand and leading him upstairs. He pushed open the door to his bedroom and stepped inside.

Derek waited awkwardly by the door.

“I, uh… I can sleep on the floor if you’d like,” Derek offered.

Stiles turned around and looked at him, confused. “Derek, we’ve already had sex, I think sharing a bed isn’t that big of a deal.”

Derek nodded.

Stiles took a step closer, standing before the man and craning his neck to look the man in the eye.

“If you don’t want to share, that’s okay. I’ll sleep on the floor and you can sleep in the bed,” Stiles bargained.

“No, it’s okay,” Derek whispered, reaching out and taking Stiles’ hand in his. He leant closer and brought their lips together in a tender kiss. He drew back slowly, resting his forehead against Stiles’.

It hurt Stiles to pull away. He took a step back and pulled his shirt up over his head.

Derek flinched.

“Relax,” Stiles chuckled. “I’m just getting changed out of my wet clothes and into something dry and warm. I think we’ve both hand enough action for one night.”

Derek nodded and bowed his head, slightly ashamed of his assumptions.

Stiles stepped forward again and gave the man a kiss on the cheek. “Any other night, I would have said yes.”

Stiles turned and changed into a loose tee-shirt and a pair of track pants.

He climbed into the bed and held up the sheets for Derek to join him.

“You can wear as much or as little as you’d like, I won’t judge,” Stiles told him.

Derek unbuttoned his jeans and took them off. He kicked off his shoes and slid beneath the sheets.

Stiles smiled and rolled onto his side.

Derek laid still, shuffling about slightly every now and then as he tried to get comfortable.

“My God, you’re a stick in the mud,” Stiles teased.

The boy rolled over and curled up against Derek’s chest.

Derek let out a soft sigh and began to relax as he rolled over and pulled Stiles closer to his chest.

“That’s better,” Stiles whispered. “And I’m sorry my dad hit you.”

“It’s okay,” Derek assured him.

“Goodnight, Derek,” Stiles mumbled.

Derek pressed a kiss to the crown of the boy’s head. “Goodnight, Stiles.”


	9. Chapter 9

Derek slowly blinked his weary eyes awake, looking down at the boy who was curled up in his arms.

Stiles’ chestnut brown hair was even more tousled and messier than usual. His eyelashes fluttered slightly as his lips quivered slightly.

Derek couldn’t help but smile.

He leant forward and pressed a tender kiss to Stiles’ forehead before slowly pulling his arm out from beneath the boy’s head.

Stiles squirmed a little and stirred as he felt Derek pull away.

“Where are you going?” Stiles rasped, burying his face in his pillow as he tried to shelter his eyes from the morning light.

“I’m just going to get us breakfast,” Derek whispered, pulling on his jeans and boots. “Do you want pancakes?”

Stiles nodded and smiled.

“Go back to sleep and I’ll wake you up when I get back,” Derek promised. He leant forward and kissed the boy’s forehead.

“M’kay,” Stiles mumbled as he fell back asleep again.

A few of minutes later, Derek returned with McDonalds. He set the bag of greasy food down on the coffee table in the lounge room before making his way into kitchen.

He looked through the cupboards, trying his best to move quickly and quietly so that the old hinges wouldn’t groan or the glasses wouldn’t clatter and clink. Derek picked up a glass and filled it with water. He set it down on the counter and turned his attention to the small medicine cabinet over the stovetop. He pulled out a packet of aspirin and brought it and the glass of water into the lounge room.

He set them down on the table and slumped down in the nearby armchair.

Almost as if on cue, John blinked his bloodshot eyes open. The man let out a pained groan as he winced, the morning light burning his eyes and making his body radiate pain.

Derek leant forward and popped two aspirin from the foil packet and offered them to John.

“They’ll help,” he whispered before passing the man the glass of water.

John sat up slowly and took the medicine from Derek. He tossed the pills into his mouth and swallowed them, quickly gulping down the water to make it easier.

Derek took the glass from the man and rifled through the brown paper bag. He pulled out a burger and some fries and slid them across to John.

The man took them silently and slowly nibbled at the fries as he felt his pounding headache subside to a dull roar.

“Why are you still here?” John whispered.

“I’m here because I was worried about Stiles,” Derek explained.

“I’m sorry.”

“Apologies don’t cut it,” Derek growled. “From what Stiles and Melissa have said, this isn’t the first time and it doesn’t seem like it’ll be the last. You could have hurt Stiles.”

“I wouldn’t,” John mumbled.

“You wouldn’t, huh?” Derek repeated. “Well you seemed pretty far gone when I got here. You were shoving him about and shouting. Maybe I would believe you if you hadn’t been so quick to punch me. You had lost control and apologies aren’t going to fix it.”

“I hit you?” John asked, frowning in frustration.

“Yes, you hit me. It’s not the worst hit I’ve copped, but if you had swung a second later, you would have hit Stiles.”

John bowed his head in his hands and sobbed, “What did I do? What did I do?”

Derek let out a heavy sigh and slumped forward. “Look, I know it’s not easy coming to terms with a sickness like alcoholism, but you did it for seven years. Why did you throw that all away?”

“One of my deputies… he told me that Stiles was in a porn video.”

“So?” Derek muttered. “What difference does that make?”

“’So’? I’m the sheriff of the Beacon Hills county and my son is a porn star,” John pointed out.

“He’s eighteen and he consents. No videos are made of anyone under eighteen nor distributed to minors. There is no violence or illegal activity. No drug or alcohol use that would make him unfit to consent. He’s paid for the production of sexual content, yes, but that’s not the same as prostitution or solicitation. So he doing anything illegal, is he?”

John thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”

“Are you ashamed of him?”

“No,” John replied quickly.

“So you’re embarrassed he’s your son, is that it?”

“No,” John snapped. Each answer got more and more passionate and yet heart-breakingly quiet. His shoulders slumped forward and he rubbed at his wrinkled temples, growing more and more discouraged.

“You think he’s thrown his life away?”

“No.”

“You think he’s ruining his future?”

“No.”

“You think he’s hurting himself?”

“No.”

“You think he shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions for himself?”

“No, that’s not what I think. He should and he does,” John answered.

“Then why did you do it? Why did you lose control?” Derek growled.

“I don’t know,” John admitted. “I was just… shocked. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” Derek asked.

“Scared of why he thought he couldn’t be honest with me,” John replied.

“So you went and gave him a reason,” Derek pointed out.

John bowed his head.

“I understand that I am the last person you want to hear this from, but I care about Stiles. I love him. And I swear I will never hurt him. I swear I will never let anyone hurt him,” Derek promised. He paused, letting a blanket of silence settle over the house before he continued, “At Omega, we wear items of costuming to hide our identity. The incident with your deputy was rare and it only happened this time because he’s seen Stiles so often. And unless your deputy is the kind of guy that goes around bragging that he watched gay porn, I think Stiles will be okay.”

“Why does he do it, though?” John asked.

Derek shrugged. “Some people do it for the money, some for the sex, some for the experience and some because they just want to try it out. Stiles… is a little bit of all of them.”

“Why do you do it?”

“Same reason as Stiles, I guess,” Derek admitted.

John let out a heavy sigh, prodding at the burger that sat before him. “What am I going to do? How do I make this up to Stiles?”

“Apologising won’t work.” He thought for a moment before he instructed, “Sober up, eat something, and make it more than seven years.”

Derek’s bright eyes flickered up to the figure that lingered in the doorway.

The floorboards creaked slightly as Stiles shuffled forwards. He rounded the couch and sat down next to his dad. He slumped against the man’s side.

John wound his arms around the boy, cradling him against his side as he pressed a kiss to the boy’s temple and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise. I promise.”

Derek reached forward and dug into the paper bag before passing Stiles the small box.

Stiles sat back slightly and took them with a grateful smile. He inhaled the sweet smell of the pancakes and began to eat them.

Derek pulled out a second container for himself and John reached forward to pick up his burger.

They ate their breakfast in silence. Afterwards, the mood seemed to lighten a little.

John exhaled heavily and turned to look at his son.

“Is there anything else you would like to tell me before I find out second-hand?” John asked.

“Okay, cards on the table: I work part-time at a porn site – it pays well and the people there are really nice,” Stiles explained. “I’ve only been working there for a few weeks and I’ve only been in two videos, both of which were with Derek. The people are health checked and they’re strict on ethics when it comes to consent and identities.”

“Okay,” John said quietly. He looked his son in the eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry I overreacted. I was shocked and scared that you felt like you had to hide this from me.”

“Yes, because this conversation would have gone a whole lot better if I had come out and said ‘by the way, Dad, I’m not going to college because I can’t decide on a degrees. Instead, I’m going to make gay porn’,” Stiles said sarcastically.

John couldn’t help but smile and laugh slightly.

“Alright, I’ll admit it, I still would have been shocked and I might not have taken you seriously,” John confessed. “But it would have been better than finding out second hand.”

Stiles bowed his head.

John watched as his son nervously fiddled with his fingers.

“Is there anything else you would like to tell me?” he asked.

Stiles glanced up at Derek.

The young man smiled and nodded slightly.

“Derek and I are… together.”

“As in dating?” John reiterated.

Both of the young men nodded.

“Okay,” John replied, sitting back slightly and pulling his son into his arms. He listened to Stiles and Derek chuckle as he said, “In that case, I’m sorry I hit your boyfriend.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter of utter filth, but that's what you came here for, isn't it?
> 
> After all the pain I've put you through, I figured I'd offer you all a reprieve.

“We’re playing with toys today,” Alpha said lowly and with finality. He sat down on a cold iron chair and pulled Little Red into his lap. He balled his fist around the young man’s bright red jacket and pulled him close. He crushed their mouths together in a blisteringly passionate kiss.

Little Red ran his hands over Alpha’s body, his fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. He slid his hand back up the man’s chest and stripped him of his shirt, revealing his golden skin.

Alpha ran his tongue across Red’s parted lips, sinking back into the kiss and consuming the boy with his dominating tongue.

The soft patches of groomed facial hair tickled Red’s face.

The boy caressed the man’s abs and trailed his fingertips up to Alpha’s chest. He ran his hands across Alpha’s firm biceps and down his arms, reaching down to the arms of the chair and fastening the heavy leather cuffs around his wrists.

Little Red pulled away from the kiss, bringing his lips to Alpha’s neck: kissing, sucking and nipping at the warm flesh tenderly – almost as if he were apologising for something.

“Toys,” Alpha growled.

Red sat back, glancing over his shoulder to look at the variety of sex toys that Alpha had set out on display. He climbed off of Alpha’s lap, eyes rolling over the collection of gags, ropes, blindfolds, dildos, vibes, nipple clamps, cock rings, butt plugs, and anal beads.

He collected a small vibrator and switched it on, listening to it buzz as he looked at the man with a sultry, cynical look. Alpha met the young man’s eyes with a needy, lustful gaze, but his confidence and his composure were still intact.

Little Red stepped forward again and crouched between Alpha’s legs. He pushed the vibrator up against the thick denim of the man’s jeans, listening to him growl and gasp as his hips rocked towards the sensation. Red ran the vibe across the bulge that pushed against Alpha’s pants, rolling it up and down the thick seam of his jeans and then in circles across the man’s throbbing erection. With his spare hand, Red reached up and undid the button of Alpha’s tight jeans. He leant forward and caught the zipper between his teeth, dragging it down. The vibrations of the zip and the vibe made Alpha moan.

Red set down the vibe and pulled Alpha’s pants off, his boxers following soon after. He pressed a tender kiss to the underside of the man’s hard cock, picking up the vibe and pressing it to the spot where his lips had been.

Alpha’s hips buckled to the sensation, a strangled moan falling from his lips.

Little Red reached forward and brought his lips to Alpha’s chest. He trailed kisses across his man’s hair-dusted sternum, latching onto one of the man’s firm nipples. He sucked hard, feeling Alpha’s breath catch in his throat as he arched his back towards Little Red. Red pulled back, swirling his tongue around the hard nipple.

Alpha purred, urging Little Red on.

The boy lifted his gaze, watching him carefully as he caught the man’s nipple between his teeth and tugged at it.

His smug composure was shattered, his cheeks flushed pink and his lips open and quivering for broken gasps. Alpha’s breath hissed through gritted teeth.

Little Red lapped at Alpha’s nipple, dragging his tongue across it before swirling it around the rigid nipple in slow, torturous circles.

He moved his hand to the man’s thick dick and pumped Alpha’s shaft as he dragged the vibe over his head. Beads of precome spilt across the vibe, helping it glide across his dick.

Alpha moaned at Red’s touch.

“Ride me,” Alpha ordered as he caught his breath.

Little Red rose to his feet and stripped off his jacket and his tee-shirt, unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants to the floor.

He climbed back onto Alpha’s lap, grinding his soft ass cheeks against the man’s painfully hard erection. He smiled teasingly at the man’s sputtered gasps. He rose up onto his knees and sank down over Alpha’s dick, taking his rigid length in his ass. He rolled his hips against Alpha’s groin, moaning as the man’s hips bucked upwards.

“Turn around,” Alpha instructed.

Little Red obeyed, moving around so that he faced the cameral.

Alpha liked to show off, he liked to show the viewers Red’s broken expression, the boy’s cries of delight and his rigid dick as his cock pounded the Red’s tight ass.

Red ended up with his thighs spread wide over Alpha’s lap. His back was pressed against the man’s chest and his pulsing erection pressed, teasingly, against Red’s entrance.

Little Red sank down over his length, his muscles clenching against the intrusion but slowly relaxing to welcome Alpha’s dick.

Little Red rose up onto his knees so that only the head of Alpha’s cock was still inside of him, then sank down again with a broken moan. He repeated the action, a little faster, settling into a steady rhythm as he fucked himself on Alpha’s thick cock.

Alpha’s hips jerked up into Red’s ass, making the young man whimper helplessly with his thrusts. He fucked him slowly at first, slowly but no less deeply.

Little Red whimpered as Alpha’s cock pressed against his insides, hitting all the right places.

Alpha grew impatient with the slow pace; Red’s ass was tight and hot around him, and resisting the urge to simply give in and fuck him was testing his limited self-control.

He drew out of Little Red slowly until only the tip of his head was inside of his ass and then slammed his hips back against Red’s ass, making the boy scream and throw his head back against Alpha’s shoulder.

“That’s it, cry for me,” Alpha growled, craning his back in order to sink his teeth into the pale skin of Red’s throat.

The name fell past Red’s trembling lips before he could stop it.

“Alpha! Oh, fuck, Alpha!”

The man’s shackles clattered as he strained against the cuffs. Alpha purred, thrusting into Little Red with no restraint, making the boy whimper and cry.

Little Red moved the vibe in his fingers and reached down, pressing the small vibrator to the underside of Alpha’s cock, making him cry out and slam into Little Red harder and faster.

Alpha began to squirm, his pace faltering and his cock twitching from strain. He was close.

Little Red sat back so that Alpha’s thick cock brushed his prostate, bracing himself against the armrests of the chair as he began to move faster and faster.

Alpha bit down into the pale flesh that covered the boy’s shoulder blade, growling as he buckled his hips and buried his length into Red’s ass as he hit his peak.

Alpha threw his head back and drew in heavy breaths through his gritted teeth, riding out the euphoric wave of his orgasm as Little Red slowly rolled his hips.

Red reached down and unfastened the leather cuffs.

Alpha lifted his hands to Red’s hips and slid down to the ground.

He arched over the boy, his hot breath rolling across the boy’s skin as he said, “We’re not done until I make you come.”

He gently pushed Red’s shoulders down and pulled his hips up into the air.

The boy’s face was pressed against the smooth polished concrete floor, his breath rugged and steaming the glossy surface as he panted and jutted his hips up eagerly.

Alpha leant back and picked up a dildo.

Little Red heard the familiar click of the bottle of lube as Alpha ran the gel over the shaft of the dildo.

He pressed the head of the dildo against Red’s asshole, teasing a needy whimper out of him but not giving him any pleasure or friction.

“If you want it, you’ll have to work for it,” Alpha instructed.

Red let out an involuntary moan, his hands clawing at the floor as he pushed back.

Alpha watched with delight as the boy lowered himself over the toy, his ass consuming the thick dildo that he held in position.

Alpha lost his patience and shoved it in to the hilt.

Red let out a savage moan, his lips trembled as he cried out and threw his head back.

“Do you like your new toy?” Alpha teased, sliding the ridged dildo in and out of Little Red’s tight ass.

The young man whimpered and rolled his hips back against the toy, desperate for more friction against his prostate.

Alpha continued to tease the boy, pulling the dildo out until only the tip was inside of his ass – leaving him breathless and whimpering needily for more – and then he shoved it back in until the hilt hit Red’s entrance, making the young man cry out and tremble with pleasure. Then Alpha began to twist it, earning yelps, groans and whimpers from the boy as his toes curled and his hips rolled back, desperate for relief.

Alpha picked up the vibrator that Red had teased him with and pressed it to the tip of the boy’s throbbing cock, chuckling breathlessly as the young man bucked towards the sensation.

Red’s cock drooled, he was so close to coming.

The boy whimpered as he shifted his ass around the dildo.

Alpha reached down and turned on the dildo.

Red let out a broken whine as the vibrating tip shifted about and buzzed inside of him.

Alpha purred and stroked his own cock, his erection returning as he drank in the sight of the young man completely at his mercy.

Alpha set down the vibrator and shuffled around the boy. He sat before Little Red and pressed the tip of his cock to the boy’s gaping lips

Red didn’t need to be told what to do. He gently lapped at the man’s come-slick head.

Alpha shuffled closer, threading his slender fingers through the young man’s ruffled brown hair. He gently tugged at it, listening to the man yep and gasp for air as he threw his head back and opened his mouth. The man bucked his hips forward and slid his cock into Red’s mouth.

Red choked on it for a second, but quickly adjusted, sinking down over the man’s rigid length.

“Oh God, yes,” Alpha gasped. “Tell me, are you doing this for your Alpha or are you just a hungry little come slut?”

Red didn’t reply. Instead, he sank down over Alpha’s cock, taking him to the hilt. He moved his head back and forth as he teased rugged moans of pleasure from the man.

Red rolled his hips, grinding against the buzzing dildo. He sighed and let out a quiet moan as he moved his head over Alpha’s cock.

The man threw his head back, gasping and sputtering as the vibrations of the boy’s moans rolled over his dick. He tightened his grip on the boy’s hair and pulled him back.

Alpha came with the head of his cock on Red’s parted lips, spurts of come spilling into the young man’s mouth.

Red licked at his lips and swallowed hard. He leant forward and wrapped his mouth around the man’s cock, milking him of every last drop.

Alpha sat back on his ankles. He slid a finger beneath Red’s chin and lifted the boy’s face. Red arched to his touch as Alpha encouraged him to sit up. He brought his lips to the boy’s and gave him a tender, chaste, kiss before whispering, “You have my permission to come.”

He encouraged the boy to sit back on his ankles and expose himself to the camera. His muscles twitched and his breath was short as the dildo pressed against his prostate.

Red bit into his lip, his chest rumbled with a deep growl and a broken moan.

Alpha sat behind him, pulling the boy down into his lap as Red’s thighs began to twitch and he grew closer to his orgasm. He picked up the vibe again and brought it to the head of Red’s cock, rolling it across his sensitive, precome-dribbling slit before rolling it down the young man’s thick shaft.

Red lifted his hand to his mouth and bit into the pale flesh of the back of his hand, leaving angry red teeth indents in his skin.

Alpha pulled the boy’s hand away and scolded him, “Let them hear your scream, otherwise I’ll have to punish you.”

Alpha moved his hand faster and faster, spurred on by the young man’s whimpers.

Red bit into his lip, trying to stifle his cries.

“You don’t want me to stop do you?” Alpha threatened.

Red shook his head.

“Then let them hear your scream,” Alpha instructed, his voice low, husky and sultry. “Let them know how good it feels.”

Red huffed rugged breaths, feeling his stomach tense as he drew closer. He threw his head back and cried out, exposing himself entirely to the camera as his cock twitched and he reached his climax. His back arched and his head fell back against Alpha’s shoulder as he screamed with pleasure. Spurts of come erupted from his cock.

But Alpha didn’t leave it at that, he toyed with the dildo and rolled the vibe across Red’s length until the young man was spent and breathless.

Red struggled to hold himself up, his muscles throbbing and buzzing as his head span in circles.

Alpha leant forward and pressed tender kisses to the curve of the boy’s exposed neck.

The man gently nuzzled him, reassuringly, as he whispered, “Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple more chapters to go before this story wraps up, but I'm seriously behind in all my writing so updates might slow down, sorry.


	11. Chapter 11

Alpha leant forward, running the ball of his thumb across the soft pink flesh of Little Red’s lower lip.

“You have such nice lips,” Alpha purred.

Little Red smiled and replied, “All the better to kiss you with.”

He leant in close and cupped Alpha’s cheek, tilting his head so his lips were millimetres away from the man’s and Alpha’s warm breath rolling across the boy’s lips.

“Like this,” he whispered as he closed the space and drew their lips together.

Little Red let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped. His eyes fluttered shut as he looped his arms around Alpha’s neck, desperately clinging to his thick leather jacket.

 Alpha dropped his hands to Red’s waist and pulled him close, enveloping him in his warmth. He ran his tongue across Red’s bottom lip and moaned as he obediently opened his mouth to welcome Alpha’s tongue.

Little Red sighed in return, weaving his fingers into Alpha’s hair, pulling soft tufts into his fist as the other hand running down the man’s shoulder, bicep and back. He wanted to feel every inch of Alpha’s skin.

His lungs burnt so much he wanted to cry but he desperately didn’t want to let go. He fell weak in Alpha’s arms.

Alpha drew back, licking his lips and grinning at Red’s euphoric expression.

Little Red tilted his chin, chasing his Alpha’s lips. He felt Alpha chuckle against his mouth as he brought them back together again. He kissed him lightly, drawing away quickly as he craned his neck and placed a trail of kisses across the boy’s cheek, jaw, chin, and neck.

Alpha stayed there, gently sucking and nipping at Red’s pale skin and moles; brushing his teeth against them just hard enough to make the boy moan and hiss but not hard enough to leave a mark. He pressed soft kisses against the patches of skin which were marred by the soft impressions of his teeth. His hands slid beneath Red’s hoodie, running up the curve of his spine and urging the boy arch to his touch.

Little Red trailed his fingers down to the waistline of Alpha’s jeans.

“Such a nice warm mouth,” Alpha commented.

“All the better to blow you with.”

Little Red gently shoved his shoulder and rolled him over. He crawled off the end of the bed. He sank to his knees and gently pushed open his thighs, smirking at the sight of the bulge that pressed against his jeans. Red quickly unzipped Alpha’s tight jeans and dragged the denim down his legs. He slid his fingers under the elastic band and relieved Alpha of his boxers.

The man’s cock bobbed before him, hard, eager and drenched.

“Please,” Alpha begged, withering beneath Little Red, his face flushed as he tried to calm his rugged breathing.

Little Red ran his tongue up the man’s impressive length before lapping at the head, making Alpha gasp and growl. He wrapped his hand around the base – knowing it was too big for him to take into his mouth – and sucked at the tip. He swirled his tongue around the head, sinking his mouth down to his fist. He tightened his mouth and dragged his lips back up the length, watching as Alpha’s composure fractured, his face warping into an expression of bliss as his jaw fell open.

Little Red moved his hand in time with his mouth, pumping the shaft and eliciting savage moans from Alpha.

Alpha ran his hand through Red’s ruffled hair, his hips buckling slightly.

Beads of precome dribbled from the head of Alpha’s cock and across Red’s tongue.

The boy sat back and smirked as Alpha’s erection bobbed excitedly.

“I want to drink you all up,” Little Red purred as he sank his mouth over Alpha’s cock, slurping up the salty precome that flowed from his head.

Alpha screamed, legs thrashing about uselessly as his hips bucked towards the boy’s face.

Little Red ran his tongue around the head of the man’s quivering cock, teasing him. He lapped at the head, his breath rolling over his slick length and eliciting a broken sob from the man. He relinquished his grip on the base of Alpha’s cock and sank down over his length.

Alpha came instantly, gyrating as his breath caught in his throat.

Little Red slowly dragged his lips back up Alpha’s cock and swallowed his thick, warm semen. He sat back, licking his lips as he looked down at the man.

Alpha twitched from overstimulation, his body quivering and yearning for Little Red’s touch. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as air returned to his lungs. His cheeks were bright red and his eyelids were heavy.

“You okay, pup?” Alpha asked as he reached down for Little Red.

The boy nodded and crawled up onto the bed. He sauntered forward and leant down over the man, bringing their lips together for a delicate kiss.

 

“Let me see, let me see,” Isaac said excitedly as he rushed over to Boyd’s side.

Boyd rolled his eyes and opened the video files.

Derek rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the papers before him. His brow creased with confusion as he read the same thing over and over.

“Isaac,” he called. “Did you call the printers about the photoshoot we all did last week?”

“Huh?” Isaac forced himself to turn away from the video. “Oh, yeah. They’re a little backed up with orders but they’ve promised to have the posters ready for order on Tuesday. Boyd’s already posted a notice and I’ve talked to Peter about it, so it’s all sorted.”

Derek nodded and turned his attention back to the papers.

Stiles made his way across the room and leant over the back of the couch. He pressed a gentle kiss to Derek’s cheek and whispered, “I’m going to head home.”

“I might be a little late,” Derek said, keeping his voice low and quiet so that no-one else heard them. “I’ve still got to get through order numbers and talk to Peter and…”

“It’s okay,” Stiles replied, pressing another kiss to the man’s cheek to silence him. “You know where the spare key is and my dad got stuck with the graveyard shift so it’ll only be us. So, come over whenever you can and we can do _whatever we want_.”

Derek couldn’t help but smile and chuckle. “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

He turned his head and brought his lips to Stiles’ in a tender kiss. He drew back slightly and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Stiles replied with a sweet smile.

He gently patted Derek’s shoulder and stood up straight.

Somehow, they had managed to avoid the prying eyes of everyone at Omega and kept their relationship a secret. They had agreed that work was work and their home lives – their _relationship_ ­– was private, and for the two months they’ve been together it had worked. Everyone seemed to be oblivious, except for Erica. Every time she caught them standing next to each other or walked in on them discussing scripts or just talking, she would always smirk knowingly.

Stiles turned to say goodbye to everyone else, but got distracted by Isaac who was intently focused on their latest video – so much so that he was practically drooling over Boyd’s computer.

“You do realise that the sooner you let me upload it, the sooner you can go home and jerk to it,” Boyd pointed out.

Isaac’s eyes grew wide with excitement.

“Upload it,” he muttered before racing out the door.

“A little bit of subtly and common decency would be appreciated,” Derek shouted after him. He turned his cool gaze to Boyd. “And you could stop encouraging him.”

“I didn’t want him jerking off on my computer,” Boyd replied shyly. “Besides, I’m not going to post it for a few more hours, so he’s just going to torture himself by sitting there and waiting for it.”

Derek smirked and shook his head, turning his attention back to the papers.

“Okay, I’m going to head off too,” Stiles farewelled before quickly adding, “But not for the same reason, I swear.”

Boyd and Derek couldn’t help but laugh.

“I believe you,” Boyd assured him. “Drive safe.”

“I will,” Stiles promised as he turned to leave. “Bye.”

 

Stiles dropped his face into his hands, groaning as he did. He blinked heavily and turned his attention back to his computer screen. The small blurs of black lettering came into focus as he stared down the multiple tabs that opened up to detailed pages of university courses, with the different subjects and the different options and details about online study or campus classes.

His desk was cluttered with scattered papers, empty coffee mugs, empty soda cans, coloured pens, Post-It notes, coloured string, highlighters and folders full of flyers.

He had decided a few weeks ago that he was going to give university a shot; Omega paid well and he could reschedule his life around classes, but he just couldn’t decide what he should study and which college he should go to.

He sat back and sighed heavily, running his hands through his messy brown hair.

Somewhere among the quiet of the house, he heard the thud of the front door and the groaning boards of the staircase. His bedroom door opened with a soft whine.

Derek sighed at the pitiful sight before him and stepped over to the boy’s side. He gently massaged the nape of Stiles’ neck, smiling as the boy purred and leant back into the man’s warm touch. Derek slid his hand across the boy’s shoulder and down his chest, running his fingers through the fabric of his shirt and teasing the hem up to expose his pale flesh. He pressed a tender kiss to boy’s mole-speckled jaw.

“Still no luck?” the man asked softly.

Stiles let out a pathetic whimper. “I just can’t decide. I don’t know what I want to do.”

“I know what I want to do,” Derek whispered sultrily as he walked his fingers down the thin trail of hair that disappeared beneath Stiles’ jeans.

Stiles bit into his lip and let out an unrestrained moan.

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind. I know what I want to do,” Stiles announced, reaching back and threading his fingers through Derek’s dark hair. He tilted his head back and crushed their mouths together.

Stiles carefully pushed back from his desk and rose to his feet. He pressed his hand against Derek’s chest and slowly walked him backwards.

The back of Derek’s calves struck the mattress and he fell back against the sheets. He grabbed a hold of Stiles’ shirt and pulled the boy forward.

Stiles clambered on top of him and straddled his waist. He bent forward and brought their lips together is a soft kiss, too light for Derek’s liking.

Stiles slowly drew back from the kiss, smirking as Derek chased his lips. When the boy’s lips were out of reach, Derek slumped back against the mattress weakly. Stiles smiled and gently gnawed at his lower lip seductively as he slowly stripped off his shirt.

Derek’s hands instinctively settled on Stiles’ thighs, rolling the balls of his thumbs in circles across the pale skin above the waistline of the boy’s jeans.

Stiles rested one hand against Derek’s chest, feeling Stiles’ heartbeat pound beneath his hand.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked. “You’re not usually this nervous.”

“Can I ask something of you?”

Stiles smiled reassuringly. “Sure, ask away.”

Derek squirmed slightly as he tried to think of how to phrase his question.

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat, pounding painfully against his ribs.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, Derek spoke, “Can you… Will you… top me?”

Stiles’ eyes grew wide with shock.

“I, uh…”

“You can say no,” Derek quickly added.

“No, I can if you want to but I’ve never actually…” Stiles’ voice trailed off. “I mean, I’ve done it with a couple of girls – at separate times – but I’ve only ever bottomed for guys.”

“We could have the worst sex ever and it would still be the best thing I’ve ever experienced because it’s with you,” Derek whispered. “But if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Stiles answered quickly. “I just… I might need a little…”

“Help?” Derek offered.

“Guidance,” Stiles corrected.

“For starters, it helps to be naked,” Derek teased. “It’s not necessary, but it helps.”

Stiles bowed his head.

“Come here,” Derek whispered.

He slid his finger under Stiles’ chin and brought their lips together again. He brushed his hand against the boy’s cheek and down to the back of his neck. He gently guided the boy forward until he laid against the warmth of Derek’s chest.

Derek ran his free hand along Stiles’ ribs and down the curve of his spine before falling still on his hips.

Stiles ground his hips against Derek’s, feeling the man’s erection press against the tight denim of his jeans.

Stiles pulled back, lifting a cocky eyebrow at Derek. “Are you really that excited?”

“I can’t help it,” he hummed, tilting his chin and nipping at Stiles’ lower lip. “It is you after all.”

Stiles purred against his lips as Derek slipped his hands beneath the boy’s pants and down to his firm cheeks. He gently kneaded his ass before he slid his nimble fingers to the front of Stiles’ jeans, making quick work of the button and the zipper.

He rolled Stiles onto the mattress and rose to his knees. He tugged Stiles’ jeans off and dropped them to the floor. The boy’s boxers soon followed.

He could feel Stiles’ hands trembling and decided to relieve the boy of his misery and instead treat him to a strip show.

If Stiles wasn’t painfully hard already, he was now; Derek slowly pulled his shirt off overhead, revealing the taut muscles that rippled beneath his golden flesh. Next were his pants. He teased Stiles with his movements as he tortuously slowly unbuttoned his jeans and slid them off his hips. He slid his thumb beneath the elastic band of his boxers, slowly pulling them down just enough to give Stiles a glimpse of what laid at the end of his teasing trail of hair.

Stiles reached forward and ran his hands up to Derek’s chest to his firm pink nipples, gently twisting them between the buds of his fingertips. He drew in heavy breaths and licked his lips as he trailed his hands down Derek’s body. He ran his fingers across the valleys and peaks of Derek’s toned abs and slid them beneath the elastic of the man’s boxers. He tugged at them eagerly, trying to relieve Derek of them.

Derek chuckled at his enthusiasm and stripped off his clothes.

“Is it okay if I…?” Stiles asked.

“Do you want to eat me?” Derek asked with a smirk.

Stiles nodded. “I mean, I like it when you do it…”

Derek straddled Stiles’ hips and flipped them over so that the boy was on his knees with Derek’s legs coiled around his waist.

He raised his brow at Stiles, almost as if to challenge him.

Stiles shuffled back slightly and hoisted Derek’s thighs up.

He gently urged Derek to spread his legs.

He looked up at the man with his warm chestnut eyes and was met with the cool aventurine irises that stared at him lustfully.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Derek whispered.

He ran his tongue across Derek’s opening, listening to the man inhale and roll his hips towards the boy’s mouth. Stiles ran his hands along Derek’s inner thighs, holding him still. He dragged his tongue across Derek’s entrance again, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue in slow, torturous circles.

His crotch throbbed at the sound of Derek’s unrestrained gasps and groans.

He moved his hand up to Derek’s precome-slick cock, gently grazing the palm of his hand against his length.

“Oh God,” Derek gasped, unravelling before him as he thrashed about. “Stiles!”

His voice was cut off by a yelp of surprise as Stiles slid his tongue into him.

Derek’s hips twitched, indecisive of whether to roll into Stiles’ hand or against his face.

Stiles couldn’t help but smirk as Derek whimpered when he withdrew his longue.

“Do you like that?” Stiles asked quietly.

He gently sucked at his entrance, dragging his tongue across it before quickly lapping at it. He set a pattern of slow drags, soft sucking and quick flicks of his tongue that tortured erotic gasps from the boy.

Derek’s feet kicked and thrashed uselessly as he tried to press harder against Stiles, his frustrated moans filling the air as Stiles lightly flicked his tongue against his entrance.

Stiles could feel the boy’s cock growing harder and slicker, precome spilling from the head and dripping over his hand.

He repeated the pattern, harassing animalistic groans from Derek as Stiles dipped his tongue in and out of the opening.

Stiles drew back, reaching over to his bedside table. He grabbed the bottle of lube and popped open the lid. He spread the cool gel across his fingers. He pressed his fingertips against Derek’s opening, slowly massaging the tense muscle before he slipped one finger in, pushing against the pressure and resistance. He sank in slowly, one knuckle at a time, listening to Derek’s broken cries of pleasure.

Derek clawed at the sheets.

Stiles paused for a moment and placed a soft kiss to Derek’s inner thigh.

“I’m okay,” Derek assured him. “Keep going.”

Stiles obeyed, sinking his finger in deeper and feeling Derek’s ass clamp around his knuckles.

“Just relax,” Stiles whispered softly, easing his finger in and out of the man.

Derek rolled his head back and tried to slow his breathing. His teeth sank into his lip as Stiles slid a second finger into him.

He waited a moment for Derek to relax before moving his fingers back and forth, working Derek open.

“I can take it,” Derek gasped. “Please, Stiles, give it to me.”

Stiles smirked as he withdrew his fingers.

As he sat back, he caught Derek’s gaze.

“You sure?” he asked, brow raised.

Derek nodded eagerly. “I want you to fuck me.”

Stiles slicked up his length and lined his rigid cock up with Derek’s entrance. He rolled his hips and sank into him slowly.

Derek cried out with delight, bowing his back and rocking his hips to meet Stiles.

There was a loud thud as the lamp and the clock fell from the bedside table.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Derek whispered.

“It’s okay,” Stiles assured him. “I’ll pick them up later.”

He leant forward and laid kisses across the man’s neck. He ran his lips up to Derek’s ear, gently nipping at the lobe and reducing him to breathless whimpers.

Stiles stopped, giving him a chance to regain his senses.

Derek drew in a few deep breaths.

Stiles felt the man’s ass relax as he slowly edged his length in further into him. The pressure bore down on him as he resisted the carnal urge to savagely fuck Derek into the mattress.

Stiles adjusted his weight slightly, sliding his fingers through Derek’s dishevelled hair as he slid the rest of the way in.

An animalistic growl tore at Derek’s lungs as he back arched off the mattress.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

“Oh fuck,” Derek gasped, whimpering a little. He drew in a deep breath.

“I can stop,” Stiles offered.

Derek shook his head.

“I’m okay,” Derek gasped, rolling his hips a little and moaning as he shifted around Stiles’ length.

“I’m going to move, okay?” Stiles asked as he dropped a hand down to Derek’s hip.

Derek nodded and Stiles began to move his hips with slow shallow thrusts.

Derek’s fingertips trailed up the curves of Stiles’ spine. He struggled to contain his gasps and groans.

They were a mess of primal sweat, erotic gasps, carnivorous grunts and panting breaths.

Stiles buried his face into the curve of Derek’s shoulder, stifling his rugged gasps as he began to thrust a little deeper and a little faster.

Derek began to relax more, welcoming Stiles’ length.

“Come here,” Stiles whispered, shuffling further onto the bed and lifting Derek onto his lap. “Go as slow as you want,” he instructed.

Derek tightened his thighs around Stiles’ waist, slowly grinding down Stiles’ cock before quickly picking up the pace, rising and falling rapidly. He made no attempt to stifle his moans, throwing his head back and digging his nails into Stiles’ shoulders.

“Oh, God, Stiles. So good,” Derek cried. “More. Please, give me more!”

Stiles slammed into him, thrusting his hips as quickly as he could manage.

Derek let out animalistic growls, words escaping him. His cries escalated into one drawn out savage moan. His body arched back but his arms caved beneath him. He collapsed against the sheets, losing himself in the euphoric sensation of Stiles fucking him open.

Derek’s ass trembled around Stiles’ shaft, opening easily to the thick erection that penetrated him.

Derek babbled his words, trying to say Stiles’ name but it came out as nothing more than a strangled cry.

Stiles fucked him hard, a deep, fast pounding that pulsed through Derek’s body. His hard cock slid in and out of Derek’s greedy hole.

The man’s erection slapped against his abs, liberally dribbling precome across the golden flesh.

The man was close to coming and Stiles could tell.

Stiles felt his stomach tense with the familiar sensation of a brewing orgasm. He sat back and hoisted Derek’s ass further into his lap.

He rolled his hips, listening to Derek’s soft grunts.

He began to thrust upwards, returning to his brutally fast pace.

Derek moaned, rolling his head back against the pillows as he panted breathlessly.

He picked up the pace, using his hands to pull Derek down over his cock as he thrusted into his ass.

“Oh, Stiles,” Derek gasped.

“Tell me how you want it, baby,” Stiles whispered.

The vibrations of Derek’s cries rolled through him and went straight to his dick as the man pleaded, “Come in me, Stiles.”

Stiles’ pace stammered.

He buried his length inside of Derek’s ass and let out a savage cry as he came.

Derek trembled breathlessly with pleasure as the sensation of Stiles’ thick semen spilling into his ass sent him over the edge. Spurts of come spilled from the head of his cock, splashing against Derek’s abs as he came, untouched.

There was a loud thud as the bedroom door flew open.

“Stiles?!”

Stiles grabbed at the bedsheets as he did his best to cover up himself and Derek.

“What the hell, Dad?” Stiles howled. “Get out!”

John quickly backtracked, pulling the door shut behind him.

Stiles looked to Derek, his face bright red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

Derek sat up and brought their lips together in a tender kiss. “It’s okay.”

“I should probably…”

“Talk to him?” Derek finished.

Stiles nodded. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Go,” Derek instructed and reached over the edge of the bed to grab Stiles’ boxers and jeans.

The boy dressed in a hurry and slinked into the hallway.

“My God, Dad. Did you forget how to knock?” Stiles hissed.

“Sorry, I panicked,” John replied. “We got a 911 call that said a suspicious figure was breaking into our house and they heard crashing and, when I got here, I heard… noises. I thought you were hurt.”

“That ‘suspicious figure’ was Derek. And before you ask, he wasn’t breaking in: I told him where the spare key was so he could come over after he finished talking to his uncle. That ‘crashing’ was us accidentally knocking over my lamp and my alarm clock. And I am not hurt… quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” John apologised, turning to walk back downstairs. “And please tell Derek I’m sorry.”

“I will,” Stiles agreed, making his way back towards his bedroom.

John paused for a moment. “Wait… You top?”

“Oh my God, Dad, I am not discussing this with you!”


	12. Chapter 12

“Please,” Isaac begged.

“I don’t care either way, but you’re going to have to talk to Derek about it considering he’s the one who’s putting together the scripts for this month.”

“Stiles, I just want one video with you,” Isaac moaned. He rolled over until he was sitting upside down on the couch. He stared up at Stiles with glittering sapphire eyes. “I don’t care if I have to bottom, please!”

“Talk to Derek,” Stiles repeated.

“Peter,” Isaac called across the loft. “Can you convince Derek to let me and Stiles have a video together?”

Peter opened his mouth to reply when the door slammed open.

Derek tore across the studio and grabbed Peter by the front of his shirt. He hurled the man back against the wall.

Peter hit the bricks with a painful thud and collapsed to the ground.

“You bastard!” Derek howled as he leapt atop Peter and pummelled him. He slammed his fist into the man’s jaw, splattering blood across the polished concrete.

“Holy crap,” Isaac gasped, frozen in fear.

“Derek!” Stiles leapt to his feet and ran to the man’s side, throwing caution to the wind as he pulled the livid man away from his uncle.

“I’ll kill you,” Derek hissed at Peter. “You son of a bitch, I’ll kill you.”

“Derek,” Stiles said firmly. “Let’s go.”

Derek let the boy guide him out of the building and out onto the sidewalk. Once out in the open, he broke free of Stiles’ hold and paced back and forth across the footpath.

“Derek, are you going to tell me what the hell that was about?”

Derek’s composure fractured. Small tears glistened in the sunlight as they rolled down his cheeks.

“Derek,” Stiles said softly, making his way over to the man’s side. “What’s going on?”

“He’s taking my sister off life support,” Derek rasped. He sat down on the curb and buried his face in his hands.

Stiles sat down beside him and wrapped his arm around Derek’s trembling shoulders.

Derek drew in a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

“You know how I told you about Kate?” the man muttered. “Well, um… when we broke up, she didn’t take it well. In fact, she went psycho bitch.” Derek paused, wringing his hands. “She locked my family in the cellar of our own house and burnt it down around us.”

Stiles felt his heart sink into his stomach. He rested his head against Derek’s broad shoulder.

“Peter, my two sisters and I were the only ones who got out alive,” he continued. “My older sister, Laura, died the next day from third degree burns and my little sister, Cora, was comatose and has been ever since.”

He fought back another wave of tears as he weakly muttered, “She’s my baby sister, I promised I’d take care of her and Peter’s taking her off life support.”

Stiles straightened his back.

“Come on,” he whispered, nodding towards his Jeep. “I’ll drive you there, because sitting with your sister sounds like a better idea than sitting on the sidewalk.”

Derek smiled weakly and rose to his feet.

Stiles drove him to the hospital, parked the car and waited for a moment. He turned to look at Derek, “Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted. “I never thought it would come to this. I always told myself she would wake up.”

“I know it’s hard to come to terms with, but take it from me: I’ve been here before and sometimes it’s easier if you let them go,” Stiles said softly. “It hurts, it always will because you love them, but at least they’ll be at peace.”

Derek leant across the car and pressed a tender kiss to Stiles’ cheek.

They made their way inside.

“Hey, boys,” Melissa greeted. There was a sadness to her smile that suggested she knew why they were there.

“Please tell me there’s something you can do?” Derek begged as they made their way down the hall towards Cora’s room.

“I’m so sorry. Peter is her legal guardian and unless she shows some sign of regaining consciousness then there’s nothing I can do to override his wishes,” Melissa replied softly.

Derek dragged his hands down his face.

Stiles slid his hand into Derek’s and gave it a gently squeeze. He smiled assuringly at Derek before letting go and stepping into the room.

He sat down in the chair by the bed, listening to the monitors beep as he looked down at the girl on the bed.

She looked to be Stiles’ age, give or take a year or two, but she was beautiful like her brother. She had long chestnut brown hair that was laminated by stands of gold. She was paler that Derek, but still tanned. Her skin was marred by a few patches of smooth pink flesh where the burns had healed but still scarred her slightly. Her plump pink lips were parted by a thin pipe that was connected to a machine that hissed and pumped oxygen into her lungs. Her frail arms sat atop the white sheets, an IV running down into her forearm and slowly dripping water and nutrients into her veins.

“Hi, Cora,” Stiles whispered, reaching forward to take her hand. “My name is Stiles. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, although it would have been nicer if circumstances were different.”

He paused for a moment, listening to Derek and Melissa’s quiet conversation in the hallway as they discussed what was to happen next.

“Look, sweetie, your uncle can be a real dick sometimes, but right now he’s a desperate man trying to do what’s best for you. Peter’s losing hope and Derek’s not ready to give you up, so _please_ , if you can hear me, show me that there’s still hope. Please, show you can wake up.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

He swallowed hard and blinked back the hot tears that burnt at his eyes.

The machines continued to make their heart-breaking choir of rhythmic chimes, beeps and hisses.

He gently ran the ball of his thumb across the back of her hand.

“Please, Cora,” he begged quietly.

Her hand flinched in his.

Stiles jerked upright. His heart skipped a beat.

“Do that again, Cora,” Stiles whispered.

There was a slight twitch and then a gentle squeeze.

Stiles let out a soft sigh, a smile lighting up his face.

“Derek, Melissa,” he called out to the two in the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Melissa asked, slightly panicked as they hurried into the room.

“Nothing,” he assured her. “Watch this.”

He turned his attention back to Cora.

“Come on, sweetie. Do it again,” Stiles encouraged. “Come on, I know you can do it. Just one more time.”

Her hand twitched again, trembling slightly as her fingers slowly gripped his hand. It was weak and slow, but it was a response.

Stiles looked to Melissa with a hopeful expression.

“That counts, right?” he asked breathlessly.

Melissa nodded. “That counts.”

Derek nearly collapsed to the floor with relief. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leant forward to press a tender kiss to his little sister’s forehead. He nuzzled his head against hers, letting out quiet sobs of relief as he reached down for her hand.

Stiles pulled away slightly, but Derek caught his hand. Stiles smiled and returned to holding Cora’s hand while Derek rested his on top of theirs.

Stiles smiled and whispered assuringly. “It counts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter!  
> Thank you all for sticking with me on this mystical journey of filthy smut and feels.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


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